Sympatric Speciation
by the morrighan
Summary: Little developments have big consequences.
1. Chapter 1

Sympatric Speciation

Orange.

The color blinked. Marking a torturous circuit across the computer screen. Blinking on some planetary designations, but not all of them. Another line of red dots followed a different route. Yet another in green was even more haphazard, blinking in empty space in some areas of the map displayed on the screen. A thin blue line was linking some of the colors, but not all of them.

Moira Sheppard sighed, sipped her Coke. Licked her lips and input more data. Waited as the computer program searched all the required parameters. The lights blinked, blinked at her. She blinked back at them, trying to discern a pattern amid the apparent chaos. A hand snaked up her back, up to tangle in her ponytail. She started, but did not take her eyes off the screen. "John?"

John Sheppard smiled, standing close. "Who else?" he teased into her ear. His voice a warmth caressing her cheek. "Any progress?" he asked, eying the screen.

"No. Well, maybe. Rodney increased the search ratios and I defined the terms more exclusively to what we want, but it will still take time. There may be nothing here, John. I may not be able to even find a distinct migratory pattern, let alone a, a breeding ground."

"You will." He kissed her brow. "I have no doubt, sweetheart."

"Oh oh." She met his gaze. Seeing he was in full uniform. Atlantis black and blue BDUs, TAC vest, P90 swung casually in his free hand as the other continued to caress her back, her hair. "John? You're leaving?" Disappointment shone in her brown eyes.

"Yeah. MALP detected an energy spike so we're off to investigate. Rodney's convinced it's a ZPM and is practically drooling over it." He eyed the screen. Tapped it. "Here, somewhere. Not a planet on your trajectory...but it's out in this grid. Huh."

"Huh? Do you see something I don't, colonel?" she asked

"No. It's just interesting, that's all. That I'll be in the same grid you are currently mapping. This planet has no dots. What does that mean?"

"It means it's been eliminated from the search requirements. No Wraith cullings recorded. No Ancient notations about it. No Stargate activity recorded in the last one hundred years."

"Oh. That's odd, isn't it? I mean, to be devoid of all three criteria?"

"No, not really. There are a few more as you can see. Let's face it, John, these records are not complete. Or maybe too complete. Vast. Until the end of the war when the city sank. There's a huge gap there which leaves us completely in the dark."

"Oh."

She smiled. Touched his chest. Fingered the TAC vest. The pockets. "Oh? Yes, that about sums it up, John, thank you."

He met her gaze, gave her admonishing look. Glanced back at the screen. Licked his lips. Suddenly nervous. "So...um...Moira...I..." he hesitated, gaze dropping to her abdomen, back to her as she assessed him.

"Yes, John. I can wait. I guess a day or two more won't make much difference. To find out," she realized his unasked question.

He smiled. "Thanks, Moy. I want to be there when you find out. Either way."

"I...I want you there, John," she admitted. Looked back at the screen. She had been trying to ignore the possibility of a pregnancy until she could be definitively tested.

John turned her face to his, kissed her lips. Savoring the taste of her. "I will be. Everything will be fine, sweetheart, either way. I promise. Back ASAP." He kissed her again. "Keep on this. You'll find it, Moy, you always do." He kissed her again.

She smiled. "John. Be careful."

"Of course, sweetheart. You too." He kissed her once more, then left. He passed Evan Lorne in the hallway. "Keep an eye on her, major."

"Of course, sir. If this research doesn't put me to sleep first, that is," he quipped.

"Why do you think I'm going on a mission?" John stated, causing Evan to laugh.

John strode into the 'Gate room. Ignored the amused, impatient expressions of his team. "Dial it up!" he called, turned to watch the Stargate's chevrons light one by one. The KAWHOOSH of energy explode outward, then fall into a shimmering wormhole. "Let's head out! I'll take point. Ronon the six. Teyla, babysit Rodney!"

"Hey!" Rodney McKay objected, but dutifully followed his team leader into the event horizon. He emerged onto a flat plain. Moved to the DHD as his three companions spread out, examining the surroundings. Shallow hills shadowed the distances. A cold wind was blowing, stirring up dust and dirt and little else in the way of vegetation. The planet looked abandoned, picked over, as if it had been denuded of any beauty. "DHD functional, as expected." As the wormhole disengaged he retrieved his scanner from his pack.

"Well? Energy spike? I'd like to make it back for lunch," John stated. Nodded as Ronon Dex began a perimeter check. The Satedan circled, big coat flapping behind him in the wind.

"Ha ha. Here we go and...oh."

"Oh? That does not sound good," Teyla Emmagan commented. She stepped round the Stargate to exam the distances. The lack of any roads or dwellings unsettling.

"Oh?" John echoed.

"Yes. Oh. I'm not reading the signature now...but let me keep scanning. A signal that strong won't just go away on its own."

"Unless someone turned it off," John said, glancing round. He eyed the sky. Dark clouds were motionless to the west. Blue lightning sparking intermittently, but there was no taste of rain on the cold air. "Teyla?"

"I am unfamiliar with this planet, colonel. It is not among those we count as trading partners."

"Great. Okay, let's move out. See if anyone's home. Rodney, keep scanning. If you don't pick up that spike soon this mission's a scrub."

* * *

Moira rubbed her eyes, straightened. Looked over as Evan did the same. She smiled. "Seeing spots?"

"Cute. Yes. Too many," Evan complained. Sighed. "Are you sure these search parameters are precise? It seems we're just going in circles here, Moira. Considering the age of this data and its relative inaccuracy today what do you hope to find?"

"I'm not sure," she admitted. Shrugged. "Some kind of pattern from which we can extrapolate backwards to find the origin. The source. It's just a theory."

"A theory? A crackpot theory, because I don't see much in the way of science here," Evan teased.

"Cute. There is science here but yes, it is mainly supposition." She sighed. "Maybe we need more eyes. Fresher eyes on this, but I don't think anyone would volunteer."

"That wouldn't be a problem," Evan noted. Glanced at the screen as another planet joined the trajectory. "So we're going forward in order to go backward. Right. Here's another one."

"It would, believe me," Moira disagreed. "This isn't any kind of high priority or even low priority work. It's just a, a crackpot theory, I guess."

"Doesn't matter. You'd get any and all volunteers you need. You being married to Sheppard and all. Whatever Sheppard's wife wants she gets," he informed with a smirk.

"Oh? Really?" she asked, eying him as he glanced at the screen again. "I wish. I've been craving a certain flavor of Doritos for months now and I–"

"I'm serious, Moira," he corrected to her sarcasm. "Rank and privileges."

"Really, because I've tried requesting those Doritos and so far I haven't gotten any."

"You need to ask Sheppard. He'll get them for you, I'd bet you any amount of money on that."

She shook her head. "Right. Hey, are you saying that since I am married to the military commander of Atlantis I get certain privileges above even that? Wow."

Evan laughed. "Yeah...it's sad what you have to do to get those Doritos, but yeah."

She laughed. "Cute. Very. I'll have to test this theory of yours, Evan. But I still don't believe you. Not for stuff like this. I see through your plan. You'll say anything to get out of this, but too bad. You are going to help me with this. Oh come on! You are serious?" she asked as he met her gaze, solemn.

He nodded. "Yes. I am. I'm not saying your queen of the city or anything, but whatever you need is at your disposal now. Don't be so naive, Moira."

"Oh." She shrugged. "Whatever. So...who is queen of the city?"

Evan laughed. "Do I really have to answer that one? Hey, let's grab some lunch while this thing computes this stuff. We can check it later. Okay?"

"No. We can eat later. We should keep an eye on it. Oh what?" she asked as he rolled his eyes. "What is it? Do you have something better to do?"

He smiled. "I'm sure I can think of something. Okay, back to work, Mrs. Colonel."

Moira laughed. "That's right, major, and don't you forget it!"

* * *

"Well?" John asked, clearly annoyed. He scanned the bleak horizon. Spotted Ronon way ahead of them, striding across the dirt landscape as if he owned it. They had encountered no one. No buildings. Only a few animals that had taken cover at their approach. "Well?"

"You're impatience won't make it oh oh...spiking! This way!" Rodney broke into a jog, surprising John and Teyla who exchanged a glance, followed.

"Ronon!" John called, heading the Satedan in their direction. Rodney was breaking into a run, swerving around boulders and strange plants that looked like brown cactus as if something was pursuing him. John sprinted to catch up to the physicist, leapt over a boulder and landed almost on top of the other man as he had abruptly stopped. "Whoa! Rodney?"

"It's here! There! Look!" Rodney pointed.

John looked past him. "Whoa. Hold up!"

The ruins of a vast city sprawled before them. But it was unlike any human-built city they had seen. The angles were strange. Geometric, precise, but very narrow. Too narrow for any human build. Or Wraith build. John gestured, cautiously advancing, gun at the ready. Twisted metal crunched under his boots. The iron eroded by centuries of weather. Of neglect. Of destruction as scorched walls told the story of an attack. "This isn't..."

"Human," Teyla supplied. Staring round. She stared at the narrow doorways. The corrugated metal that was blistered. An intense heat had melted it.

"Or Wraith," Ronon added. "I've never seen anything like this." He prodded a huge metallic sheet with his gun. It fell over, then collapsed as if made of dust. Silver particles filled the air. He stepped next to John, muttered quietly, "I feel eyes on us."

"Yeah, me too, but no life sign readings," John agreed quietly. "Teyla?"

"I am not sensing the Wraith," she assured. Tightened her grip on her weapon. "Yet I too sense that we are not alone."

"This isn't Ancient," Rodney stated, oblivious to the suspicion of his friends. He was kneeling in the center of a pile of broken machinery. Long pieces that resembled hinged skinny arms. Or legs. "Whatever it was it was very advanced. These pieces...they resemble Ancient tech but are different...more...sophisticated and...hmm...I bet I could fix this. Whatever it was." He pocketed a triangular device. "And the signal? Gone. I think it's a residual echo of...oh no. No! It's on again!"

"Here?" John asked, staring round, as if expecting a giant robot to emerge. Or at the very least a giant ZPM.

"No." Rodney met his friend's gaze. "It's from the, the Stargate!"


	2. Chapter 2

Sympatric Speciation2

John shook his head. He circled the 'Gate again. The structure loomed over him. Silent. Still. Completely inactive. Nearby the DHD stood sentinel. Equally still. Silent. He glanced up at the sky. The clouds were darker. Blue lightning streaking across them. "Are you sure you're sure? There's nothing here!"

"I know!" Rodney flared, angrier at himself than his team leader. "These instruments don't lie! There have been massive energy surges, first at the ruins, and then here! Now nothing. Either something powerful is making my scanner go haywire, or there is some kind of electrical interface on this planet that is projecting waves of energy."

"In other words there is no ZPM," John laconically noted.

"No! Yes! Maybe! I don't know! There has to be! There has to be something creating this amount of energy! It doesn't just pop out of no where!"

"Evidently it did," John quipped. "That's it. We can return in a Jumper and do a full recon. We're wasting our time here. Teyla, dial it up."

"No! We can't leave yet!" Rodney argued, furiously adjusting his scanner. "There has to be a completely rational explanation for this, and I will find it! If there is a ZPM or some other comparable source we need it for Atlantis!"

"It's probably that storm. Let's go!" John gestured as the wormhole engaged. Shimmered brightly against the gray sky, the gray landscape. "Rodney, let's go. Now!"

John grabbed his arm, began to haul him towards the Stargate as Ronon and Teyla entered the event horizon. He was about to follow when Rodney swore. His scanner erupted in a blizzard of wires and crystals, a high whine shrieking in the air. At the same time Rodney shoved John away from the Stargate, fell to the ground.

A blast of the KAWOOSH shot across the clearing at an odd angle. Like liquid lightning it tore through the air, creating a violent pulse that blew over both men. Then it snapped back into the event horizon. The Stargate disengaged. Silence.

"What the hell was that?" John demanded, moving to his feet, staring aghast at the now empty Stargate.

"I have no idea! Some, some kind of erratic energy discharge from the 'Gate itself! No wonder this planet has been abandoned for centuries!" Rodney exclaimed. He looked down at the remains of his scanner.

"Shit! What about Ronon and Teyla? Did they make it through? Rodney, did they make it through?" John asked.

Rodney met his gaze as the other man grabbed his arms, shaking him. "I...I don't know."

John freed him, whirled. Gun raised. But there was nothing there.

* * *

Moira was busily making notations, typing on one keyboard while keeping an eye on the opposite monitor. "There's more! Look, Evan! If we collate these we can begin to form a tentative trajectory, then work backwards to–"

The lights flickered. Computers froze. An alarm started to chime. Then power resumed.

"Major Lorne to the 'Gate room! Incoming with increased energy spike of–" the rest of he announcement was garbled with sudden static.

"That can't be good!" Evan jumped from his chair, ran out of the bio lab. Moira followed on his heels.

The Stargate was shimmering, but the wormhole appeared odd. Distorted somehow. Radek Zelenka's fingers were flying over the controls, as he muttered wildly in Czech. Technicians swarmed. Elizabeth Weir stood staring down at the 'Gate room as it filled with marines.

"Major! Teyla's IDC received!"

"What's happening, ma'am? Where is she?" Evan asked, moving to Elizabeth.

"That's just it, major. She hasn't appeared yet. None of them have. And the Stargate...it's acting funny."

"Funny? What does that mean?" Moira asked, joining them. She stared down at the device. Worries concentrating on John.

Suddenly the event horizon belched. Teyla flew out of it, across the room. Ronon followed, was practically flung up the wall before he crashed to the floor. The marines pulled them to safety but another KAWOOSH lashed out like a finger, slicing the air. Static electricity sizzled. The lights went out, came back on after a moment.

"Shut it down and..." Elizabeth shouted, but as soon as the word were out of her mouth the event horizon collapsed in on itself and disengaged. Silence. "Radek! What the hell was that?"

"I don't know! Ionic interference of some sort, or, or a power surge! Running scans now!"

"What about John and Rodney! Were they in there? What about John?" Moira demanded, hands clasped together tightly.

"Get them to medical now! Radek, dial it up! Maybe they didn't cross through and are still on that planet. We need to establish communication now!" Elizabeth ordered.

"Dialing!" Radek punched the address. Waited. Waited. The chevrons locked one by one. But slowly. Too slowly. "This isn't good. I would advise getting everyone out of there."

"Evacuate the 'Gate room!" Evan ordered. Shaking his head. "I've never seen the Stargate act like this." He glanced at Moira. "I'm sure Sheppard and McKay are fine. They wouldn't have entered the Stargate if it starting to act like that."

"But what if they did?" Moira asked softly, hugging herself. Arms crossed over her abdomen. Over the baby she might be carrying.

"I cannot establish a connection," Radek informed, as the chevrons blinked. The power faded.

"Keep trying! We need to know if they're all right!" Elizabeth stated. "How soon is the Daedalus due to dock?"

"In one week, ma'am," Evan noted.

"Well, that's something. We can pick them up as soon as we can. What is that planet like?"

"It could, it could be desolate," Moira answered. "They will need supplies! Food. Water. Everything!"

"Right. Gather what you think they'll need. Three packs worth and we will send it through once we establish communications. Moira, go! As soon as we contact them I will let you know."

Moira nodded. Ran from the room, talking over her shoulder. "I'll include a note explaining the situation, and that Ronon and Teyla made it, and equipment for Rodney and some things for John that he'll want and need!"

Evan said, "That was good thinking. She needs something to do until we know for sure. Either way," he added grimly.

"I know. Radek."

"Working on it!" he answered gruffly.

* * *

"Dial it again!" John ordered. Pacing like a wildcat as Rodney stood hunched over the DHD, punching the address to Atlantis.

"What do you think I'm doing? Without my scanner I have no idea what the hell's going on in there! The power fluctuations are unpredictable! This shouldn't be happening with the Stargate!

I'm sure Teyla and Ronon made it through."

"Are you? Damn it! No wonder no one lives on this rock!" He kicked a rock across the dirt. Fingers clenching on the P90 he held. He looked round. Could not shake the feeling he was being watched. Red lightning had joined the blue in a striking display across the dark clouds.

"Look, I'm sure they made it before that weird spike. And once Atlantis realizes the problem they will send the Daedalus to pick us up. Which will give us plenty of time to look for the...oh shit. What are we going to live on? There's nothing here!"

"Exactly. So the sooner you fix this problem the sooner we can go home."

"Fix it? How, exactly? Oh, wait, I have a Stargate fix-it kit in my other pocket!" Rodney snapped. "Dialing...and there...there...no."

The chevrons lit, lit. Faded.

"Damn it!" John paced, paced. Paused to watch as the chevrons lit again, one by one. "Is that you?"

"No...not me."

"Crap." John moved to stand next to Rodney, watching as the even horizon exploded, then shimmered. "Looks normal." He tapped his earpiece. "Atlantis? This is Sheppard. Copy?"

"John? We... receiving but the static...blurry...Teyla...you need...event..." Elizabeth's voice was broken by waves of static.

"Come again? Copy? We're fine! How are Teyla and Ronon?" John shouted, causing Rodney to nearly jump in alarm beside him. "Can you boost the–"

"Trying!" Rodney knelt to open a panel on the DHD.

"Don't come...through...Stargate's malfunction...fluctation..."

"Yeah, we know! You need to come get us unless McKay can fix it! Hey, hey, put Moira on! Moira!" John called suddenly but a burst of static made him swear. Yank the earpiece off as it whined. "Shit! Ow! Oh no!" The wormhole disappeared.

* * *

"John? Was that John?" Moira had skidded to a halt, lugging three packs with her.

"Yes! They're alive, but stranded. We can talk to them, but I'm afraid that's all we can do until the Daedalus docks," Elizabeth said. Eyed the bulging packs even as Evan was moving to help Moira carry them. "Wow...you crammed a lot into those."

Moira smiled, relieved that John was fine. Just stranded. "Yes...well, I've had a lot of experience packing quickly. I hope there's enough. You think the supplies will make it through?"

Evan shrugged. "They've got three chances, I guess. Let's hope they make it through. We can always send more if not. Let's go."

"We'll keep sending supplies. The Daedalus won't be here for a week. I hope there are some people on that planet," Elizabeth rued.

* * *

"Sorry." Rodney stood. "I can't do much...but maybe I can boost it with that stuff at the ruins."

"At least they know we're alive. Do you think Teyla and Ronon made it?"

"Duck."

"Huh? Oh shit!" John ducked as the event horzion exploded suddenly, an instant connection. Two packs flew out of it. A third appeared but disintegrated in front of their eyes as the Stargate shut down again. Cautiously John stood. Approached the two packs, eyes on the Stargate. He grabbed them, hauled them towards Rodney who was crouching by the DHD.

"Supplies? Food?"

"Hopefully. Ah. Food. Water. Ah." He smiled, pulling out a note. "Teyla and Ronon made it. Injured but alive."

"What else does it say? Anything about the Stargate at their end?" Rodney asked, trying to see the note but John turned it so he couldn't see it.

"Yeah...same problem at their end. Radek's working on it. Daedalus won't be there for one week, and then it will swing by to get us...shit! In about two weeks or so because we're so far out of the system."

"And? Anything else?"

John was smiling. "No. The rest is personal. There should be a scanner and some–"

"Data pads! Whoever packed this is wonderful! Cookies!" Rodney enthused as he dug through one of the packs.

John snorted. Shoved the note into his pocket and looked through the second pack.

"What? What's so funny?"

"Nothing. Just a little something Moira put in here for me. So...cookies?" he diverted, fingers searching until he felt the unmistakable satiny feel of her panties. He grinned. "Ah baby..." he muttered fondly.

"Yes. Cookies." Rodney stood suddenly. "Cookies for all, actually."

"All? What the...oh." John stood, turned. A haphazard group of people had emerged from the hills. Their tattered brown clothes making them nearly indistinguishable from the landscape.

"Hi. Cookies for all it is."


	3. Chapter 3

Sympatric Speciation3

Moira was fretting. She couldn't sit still. Kept moving from monitor to monitor. Checking the accumulating data. Checking the progress of the different collations. She turned, paused before she bumped into Carson.

"Tomorrow," the doctor answered her unasked question. "The Daedalus docks tomorrow. Radek thinks he's found a way to boost communications with them. But that's not why I'm here."

She sighed, relieved and anxious all at once. "I would feel much better if I could talk to John again. Just to be sure he's okay and our supplies are making it to him. How long will it take the Daedalus to reach them?"

"A week, or two. I know, but that planet is on the outer reaches of this galaxy," Carson explained to her dismay. "I'm sorry, love. Let's go."

"Go? Oh, you mean to see if Radek can establish a–"

"No, I mean to the infirmary. Moira, you are working yourself sick, or you soon will be. I think it best if we know now, don't you? I can't let you wait another two weeks if you are going to maintain this pace."

"What? I..." She realized his meaning. Frowned. "No...I should wait for–"

"Not unless you are willing to stop working at all hours. I thought not," he stated to her unvoiced opposition. "Let's go, love. It's time to see if there is a wee Sheppard aboard or not."

"A wee..." She smiled, almost laughed. But sighed. "Okay, Carson...I guess...I guess I do need to know now...I can't stop this work or I will go crazy worrying about–"

"Exactly. But if you are pregnant you must take better care of yourself."

* * *

John hunched in the dilapidated tent, scrounging in the pack. Out of ten only four had made it through successfully. Their supplies were meager, and made more meager by sharing it with the people who were sheltering them. Although John wondered if the term people was wholly accurate. They were human, but very primitive. Had only basic skills, and no language that he could understand. No doubt Moira would find them fascinating but John found them frustrating.

He smiled, doling out a few precious MREs which were snatched by the dirty creatures.

"Did you have to do that?" Rodney asked in a snarl. Crouched over his own pack and guarding it. He scratched the scraggly beard lining his face. "We have limited resources as it is."

"I know...but we have shelter from those storms. I think we should stay on their good side, don't you?"

"Why? What can they do? Throw a rock at us?" Rodney scoffed.

"Remember him?" John pointed to the corner where a skeleton was scattered. The bones bearing distinct marks. Teeth marks.

"Oh. Yeah. Okay. Make nice with the natives then." Rodney snorted. "Too bad Moira isn't here to do a jungle dance. Although those natives were at least at the cavemen level of development."

John smiled briefly. "Yeah...if only." He stood. Brushed the dirt off his pants. Grabbed his gun and the pack. "Let's see if you can dial it up."

Rodney grunted his acknowledgment, snatching his pack from the ground. The two men exited. Made their way across a stone circle towards the ravaged plain where the Stargate stood. The sky was cloudy, but no lightning shot across it. "So I'm thinking," he began without preamble, "this must be some sort of remnant population, maybe defeated or enslaved by whomever built that city. An alien race of some sort, perhaps. Defeated in turn by whom? The Wraith? The Ancients? Each other?"

"No idea," John said, leading his friend towards the inert looming structure. "This is the lowest level of technology we've encountered, not to mention the lowest level of evolutionary development. Why would the Ancients abandon them?"

"Maybe the war with the Wraith intervened. Or the aliens here did."

"I don't think they're fully human," John noted. Pausing by the DHD. He set down his pack. "And I swear it's not them I felt watching us."

"Not them? Then who? There's no one else here," Rodney argued, joining him. He set down his own pack after a wary glance around them. He knelt, pried open a panel. "Okay, let me test this interface and see if we can boost the signal, or at least establish a more stable connection."

"Better hurry before the storm," John reminded, glancing up at the clouds. Again they hovered in the distance. Black, roiling things. So far no lightning flashed in them.

* * *

"Anything?"

Radek frowned. Elizabeth was hovering over his shoulder again, and it made him nervous. He strived to keep his irritation from his voice. "Maybe. I can boost the power and establish a stable connection, but not long enough for safe travel."

"We just need to talk to them and send supplies through. Do it."

"Dialing now. I'd keep the 'Gate room clear just in case."

"Obviously." She moved to the comm unit. "Doctor O'Meara, er, Moira, come to the control room, please." She shrugged as Radek eyed her a moment. "I still can't used to that. John being married, I mean."

"Oh. It is not so unusual, is it?" the scientist asked, returning to his work.

"No. It's...unexpected. That's all." Elizabeth could feel everyone staring at her. Tried to ignore them, to ignore her own conflicted feelings. "Dial it up."

* * *

John circled the defunct Stargate for the fifth time. Cradling his P90 in his arms he glanced again at the clouds. Blue lightning was sparking. "Today, Rodney? So?"

Rodney sighed, still squatting near the DHD. "Exactly what I said the last four times you asked! Nothing! I don't know why the wormhole isn't functioning properly! I don't know why the 'Gate is malfunctioning half the time we try it! This interface isn't doing any good! The two systems are incompatible, which further proves my theory that this is alien technology that may even pre-date the Ancients and oh shit!" He shot up to his feet, backed away. "John!"

John sprinted away from the Stargate as the chevrons lit one by one. The wormhole engaged. The KAWOOSH shot out oddly to the left. A frozen liquid of silver that came and went rapidly. The event horizon shimmered, momentarily stable. John tapped his radio. "Atlantis, this is Sheppard. Do you copy? Atlantis, this is Sheppard. Please respond." He exchanged a glance with Rodney. "Can you boost the power?"

"What part of the two systems are incompatible didn't you understand?" Nevertheless Rodney knelt to fiddle with the crystals. "They need to boost it at their end too. Even Zelenka should have realized that!"

"John, please respond," Elizabeth's voice crackled over the radio. Disjointed.

"Atlantis, copy? Elizabeth? This is Sheppard! How are Teyla and Ronon?"

"Shouting won't help," Rodney sourly noted. Earning a glare from his friend.

"John? They made...barely...fine...out in recovery to..." Elizabeth's voice was interspersed with static.

John felt some of the tension ease from his gut. "They're recovering, Rodney! Boost the–"

"I am! The wormhole's highly unstable! Unless Atlantis can boost the feed this is as good as it gets, and it won't last! Move!" He nearly shoved John aside to open another panel on the DHD.

"I'll try another interface with the equipment Moira sent, but it's only a quick fix."

"Good enough. Atlantis, copy? When are you sending the Daedalus?"

"On way...week to...supplies?" Elizabeth's voice was fading.

"No supplies, only a few made it through," John answered, raising his voice again despite Rodney's advice to the contrary. "Destroyed by the wormhole. Need more! Moira! I need to talk to Moira!" he ordered suddenly. "Rodney, boost the–"

"It won't last long! It's a huge drain on the power and in all likelihood will deactivate the wormhole," Rodney warned, "and damage the DHD."

"Do it! We can't travel through it anyway. It's as useless as the Stargate," John grumbled. "Moira?"

"Translating the frequence and ow!" Rodney pulled back, fingers in his mouth.

"John?"

John nearly sagged with relief hearing his wife's voice in his ear. "Moira. Moira, do you know? Are you all right?" Static.

Then her voice in his ear, clear and concise, as if she was standing right next to him. "Yes, John, I know. I couldn't wait. I'd rather not broadcast it across the galaxy. Okay? Get your fine, fine ass home, colonel."

He smiled. "I'd like to, doctor, but I need a ride. Hey, tell me. Yes or no?" Static. "Moira? Moira? Ow!" He shut off the earpiece and radio as a whine pierced his eardrum. "Shit! Down!"

"Wha–" Rodney's word was unfinished as John shoved him to the ground, away from the DHD. The wormhole shot out again, a giant KAWOOSH of energy that disintegrated a boulder several feet from the 'Gate. Then shot back into the wormhole. It disappeared as the lightning sparked, dancing wildly along the 'Gate. At the same time the DHD's power flared and the center crystal burst. Sending shards all over the ground.

"Shit!" Rodney stood, staring aghast at the now destroyed DHD. "It's totally fried now! We are well and truly stuck here!"

"The Daedalus is on it's way, Rodney," John tried to soothe but the scientist rounded on him, furious.

"When? A week? Two! If any supplies make it through now it will a miracle! And our friends just might decide that we are the next item on the menu! What the hell was that? Why was it so urgent you talk to Moira? What was that? Do you know? Yes or no? What was...oh. Oh! The pregnancy?" Rodney suddenly realized.

John hesitated. Looked at the dark sky. The lightning flashes. The Stargate. The destroyed DHD. "Yes. We were supposed to find out last week. Nearly two weeks now." He kicked the ground, raising a cloud of dirt and crystal shards. "Damn it! I should have been there! When she found out! Damn it!" He circled the 'Gate again. Furious, stomping steps revealing his anger, his tension. His worry.

Rodney stared. "It's not your fault, John. Nobody could have foreseen this. Not even me," Rodney soothed.

"Fuck!" John kicked another clod of dirt across the clearing. It sailed through the Stargate. Landed with a thud. "Another week before the Daedalus even gets here!"

"I'm sure she's fine, John. Either way." Rodney lifted their packs. "We better get back. The storm." He gestured towards the clouds. The lightning was becoming more prominent. As if drawn to the recent electrical activity. "Do you want her to be?"

"Huh? What?" John turned, surprised at the question.

"Do you want her to be pregnant? If you had the choice. Yes or no."

John frowned. Grabbed his pack from his friend. "We better get back, like you said." He considered as they walked across the plain. "Yes."

"Huh? What? The oh...yes? Really? Wow. I didn't expect that. Of course I didn't expect you would get married either. Cost me five dollars. And now you want a kid?"

"Weird, I know," John agreed, shrugging. "I didn't expect any of it either," he admitted.

"Well, she's fine, John. Either way."

"I know."

"She's safe in Atlantis."

"I know."

"It bugs the hell out of you, not knowing, doesn't it?"

"Yeah," he admitted. "Crap!" He kicked the ground again. "Another week or two."

"Another week or two and then you will know. Wow...you really want a kid?"

John scowled, regretting his words, but needing to talk to someone. "Maybe. Yeah. With her. Now. Yes."

"Wow," Rodney repeated, staring at his friend in surprise.


	4. Chapter 4

Sympatric Speciation4

Steven Caldwell shook his head. Eyed the two men standing before him on the bridge of the Daedalus. Both were bearded. Dirty. Grimy. But intact. Irritable, but grateful. Relieved at their rescue. "At ease, lieutenant colonel, doctor."

"Thank you, sir," John noted. "It's been a long three weeks."

"Nearly four," Rodney corrected.

"Anything of interest down there, Sheppard?"

"No, sir, just–"

"No!" Rodney stated emphatically. "Absolutely nothing but an extremely primitive society and a ruined city of alien design! We can return to Atlantis at any time!"

"All the same I'd like Doctor Zelenka to take a look at your diagnostics about the malfunctioning Stargate. Maybe he can–"

"No! I mean if I couldn't figure it out there's no way that he could even begin to oh hi Radek I need food! I need actual food! Then I can figure it out." He snapped his fingers. "Take a look at my readings. The DHD is fried but the Stargate is still active, just the output of energy is unstable and unpredictable."

"Why don't you two get cleaned up and have a bite to eat. Usual quarters."

"Yes, sir, I would–" John tried to say but Rodney interrupted again.

"Yes! I need to eat first! Radek, here!" He shoved a scanner into the other man's hands. "See what you can make of those power fluctuations. I assume you took all the readings from Atlantis as well? There were storms on the planet, terrific ionic disruptions but I'm thinking that shouldn't have affected the wormhole the way it was..." His voice drifted off as he disappeared round the corner. With a sigh Radek followed him.

John smiled. Turned to Steven. Abruptly awkward. "Sir, are we in radio communication range of–"

"Yes. I already relayed your return. That will be all, lieutenant colonel."

John lingered. "Sir, if I may I would like to, um, contact–"

"You may not. We'll be in Atlantis soon enough. Now go make yourself presentable. That is an order, lieutenant colonel. I expect a full report in one hour."

"Yes. Sir." John's voice was terse. He subdued his anger, strode to the cabins. Saw his name on a piece of paper stuck to a door. He glowered at the oddity. Tore if off the door, crumpling it in his fist. He stomped into the room. Slammed the door shut. Dropped the paper onto the floor with his pack and gun. Glared at the small room, the bed where Moira sat, the tiny bathroom, the table. He did a double-take, spinning round on his heels. "Moy?"

Moira smiled, laughed at his reaction. Her hair was bound in a ponytail. Her body encased in her green and tan BDUs. "John Sheppard," she scolded fondly, "look at you! I had to come all this way myself this time just to drag that fine, fine ass of yours back home! Or were you running away with Rodney?"

"Moira, I...oh hilarious, Moira! Just...damn it, woman!" he stammered, stepping to her.

She jumped to her feet, flung herself into his arms. Hugged him tightly. "John! Oh John!"

He kissed her passionately, shoving his body along hers until she laughed, pushing him back a little. "Moira, you–"

"Really, colonel! I do like you rough and ready, soldier, but this is bordering on wild man territory! And you are a little, um, ripe." She wrinkled her nose.

He laughed. "I'm both, believe me, baby. Shit! Are you? Moira?" He freed her to gaze along her body, but there were no changes he could discern.

"Am I what, sweetie? Rough? No. Ready? Yes, oh yes, sweetie...but no sex on the Daedalus." She sighed. "And not until you have a shower and shave, at least."

He frowned. "Stop it, baby! Tell me. Now!"

"Hmm...I don't know, sweetie. I pictured a much more romantic setting," she teased, running her hands up his chest. "Candlelight. Flowers. Soft music. That little black dress that turns you on, makes you so hard, so very hard."

"Moira!" he snapped, losing patience. "Please?"

She kissed him, hugged him. Whispered in his ear, "John. I'm pregnant."

He froze. As if the whole world had stopped for a moment. He pulled back to see her smile. "Fuck."

She stared at him. The mild tone. The expletive. "Okay. That's not the reaction I expected, but okay, I guess. John?"

His handsome face broke into a grin. "That's...that's fantastic! I knew it, Moira, I knew it!" He kissed her. Grabbed her and lifted her to spin her round. She laughed. "Oh shit! Sorry! Sorry!" He set her down, kissed her again. "Baby! I can see it now! You are glowing. Not like you glow after multiple orgasms but still there is a–"

"John!" she laughed. "Ssh! You can't tell anyone! It's early days yet. John, I'm serious."

"Okay, sweetheart. Wow. Wow. Are you okay? I mean, you are happy, right? I know this isn't what you wanted right now, but you, you–"

"I'm fine," she assured. Yet she hugged him suddenly. Needing his strength, his surety. His love.

He held her close, kissing her brow. All of his thoughts, emotions, concerns centering on her. On the baby she was carrying. "It will be fine, Moy, I swear. I'll take care of you. I should have been there with you, sweetheart. I'm sorry!"

"It wasn't your fault, John. It's okay," she soothed, voice muffled against his chest.

"Are you sure?" He drew back to see her face. "Hey, how did you hitch a ride? Did you tell Caldwell?" Jealousy flared.

Moira rolled her eyes. "Yes, John, I told him first because he was the only colonel I could find. Of course not! I just asked to tag along and he agreed."

"He agreed? Just like that?" John asked, not believing her.

"Yes. He is a nice man."

"Nice?" he muttered, shaking his head. That wasn't the first word he would have chosen to describe his superior officer. "He must have a soft spot for you, Moira."

She slid her hand down to his crotch. "As long as you have a hard one, sweetie." She laughed at his expression. Kissed him. "John."

He smiled. "What about sex?"

"What? Now?"

"No. Well, yeah, actually..." he grinned, "but I meant during. You know." He pointed at her abdomen, as if unable to say the word.

"Oh! Yes. Fine. No problem. It's actually encouraged later...I mean...John, I was so worried about you!" she flared.

He kissed her again. Drew her to sit on the bed. Ran his hands up to cup her breasts. "I thought the girls were riper, baby."

"Not yet, silly."

He kissed her, moving her onto her back. "My Moira." He slid his hand down to her abdomen. "My baby. John junior," he murmured against her skin as he lifted the shirt. He kissed tenderly.

"Excuse me, colonel. Don't you mean Cuchulainn Cillian Aislin Sheppard?"

"Huh?" He lifted his head to meet her smirk. "I most certainly do not, Moira! No son of mine is going to have a weird Irish–"

Something hit the ship. It veered abruptly. Alarms blared. John slid onto Moira, keeping her on the bed as it slid into the wall. "What the–"

"Sheppard to the bridge. We have company," Steven's voice sounded calm on the PA.

"Shit." John kissed her. "Stay here and hold on." He slid off her, was gone. Another hit threw him but he ran with the roll, skidded onto the bridge. "Sir?"

"Wraith," Steven informed. "I thought you said there was nothing out here, lieutenant colonel."

"There was nothing! For weeks!" Rodney exclaimed, running to a screen. "I'm detecting two Hive ships! And several smaller vehicles, probably Darts! All headed for the planet! For us!"

"We need to move to intercept, sir," John suggested. "Those people have no defenses. And they looked after us the best that they could. We can't abandon them to–"

"I wasn't planning to, lieutenant colonel. Take two squads and clear the field. We can't take on two Hive ships simultaneously but we can even the odds."

"Yes, sir!" John spun, sprinted to the F-302 bay.

"They must have come by ship when they couldn't access the 'Gate!" Rodney reasoned

"Thank you for that obvious assessment, doctor," Steven caustically noted. "I need more power in the forward shields. Ahead full. Target main weapons on the Hives."

Moira ran onto the bridge. "Rodney! What–"

"Wraith! Two Hives! Moira?" He did a double-take, then turned back to the console.

"Doctor Sheppard, I suggest you strap yourself in a chair. This is going to be rough. On my mark. Fire forward missiles. Mark."

Moira fell into a chair as the ship was jolted. She strapped in, watching the lasers cut across the dark space that was rapidly filling with ships. Debris littered the view.

"On my mark," came John's voice over the comm, "red wing with me. Blue wing flank port. Deploy at will. Plow the field. Mark."

"John," she whispered worriedly.

"Don't worry, Moira. John excels at this," Rodney assured, seeing her tension, anxiety. Felt it himself as space was now swarming with Darts. And the two Hive ships closing the distance. "Oh oh. Hive two is changing trajectory. Heading straight for us!"

"We need to disable that ship. Fire secondary weapons," Steven ordered. The lights flashed, flickered. The ship rocked. "We can't take both at once."

"I'll reconfigure the shields!" Rodney shouted.

"Negative! Increase weapons! Maximum. Sheppard, fall back! I'm ordering a full retreat. There's no reason to engage here. Sheppard, copy?"


	5. Chapter 5

Sympatric Speciation5

"One more pass, colonel. On my mark. Mark." John's voice was calm as he flew unerringly into the nest of Darts, killing everything in his path. Clamping down on his reeling emotions. One moment he was finding out he was to be a father. The next he was fighting for his life against increasingly overwhelming odds. Fighting to protect the Daedalus. To protect Moira and his unborn child. "Fall back. All wings fall back!" he ordered, clearing the debris field and executing a complete three sixty to view what was left. His ship spun with a hit but he controlled it, quickly retaliating.

A small missile-looking ship was flying super fast. Zipping by the other F-302s and debris. It was surrounded by a contingent of Darts. "What the...McKay? What is that?" John asked. "I can't get a fix on it!"

Rodney scanned. "It's not good! Oh shit. It's supercharged. It's nearly all weaponry and...it's heading straight for us! For the bridge! For me! It's locked onto us! Onto me!"

"Fire all batteries...belay that!" Steven rescinded his order. "Take out that damn Hive first! Sheppard, we could use a little help here!"

"On it, sir! Red wing, take out the escorts. I'm on the leader."

Moira watched in horrified fascination as the speeding ship got closer, closer. Lasers bouncing harmlessly around it, off it. As the Darts were pulverized one by one. As the main craft did not alter its course. As John did not alter his.

"Is that automated?" Steven asked.

"Maybe...or it could be a suicide run," Rodney replied. "It's packed! I 'm reading high levels of power beyond the usual...it's a bomb! It will explode on impact."

"Will the shields hold?"

"No."

"No?" Steven asked, swinging round to face the physicist.

Rodney met his gaze, half rising from his seat. "Not at the rate of speed and the power."

"Full aft, now! Target that device. Leave the Hives. All wings fall back. Sheppard–"

"Almost got him, sir," John assured, juking his controls as he tried to get a fix on the ship. Failing. He grit his teeth and swerved, trying to catch up to the ship, trying to fall in line with it to center his position.

"Take him out and run like hell, Sheppard. It's a bomb waiting to explode," Steven cautioned.

"On it, sir."

"No!" Moira exclaimed. "John!"

John heard her, ignored her fear. Sped up, spun, pursed his lips as he tried to get a lock on the enemy target. "Son of a...there!" He fired. Nothing happened. He stared dumbly at the targeting screen, at the ship veering out of it yet again. At the complete lack of weapons fire.

"Sheppard! You've got him. Why aren't you firing?"

"I am!" He lost the lock, fired at last but the laser went wide. He continued to chase the ship as it kept on its course. Straight for the bridge of the Daedalus.

"Impact in ten," Rodney announced.

"Prepare hyperspace jump. This will be damn close. Sheppard, fall back!"

"Negative! You won't make it. I'll take him out the hard way," John decided.

"John! John, no! John!" Moira exclaimed, heart racing. She grabbed the sides of the chair.

"Moira, have a beer waiting for me, would you?" he almost lazily asked, gripping the controls. He focused all of his concentration on the ship. Still could not get a lock on it. Veering and swaying to keep in line with it. He closed the distance, shut down the targeting device.

"Pull back, John, pull back!" Rodney shouted. "At that range it will take you out as well! Impact in five!"

"Hyperspace coordinates in six!" a technician announced.

"Make it sooner, Graves," Steven ordered, voice calm. Another hit struck the ship. The shield wavered, held. Claxons blared.

"Impact in three," Rodney stated. Staring out the viewport at the approaching ship. Pointed like a finger directly at him.

"Brace yourselves," Steven advised. "Shields at maximum. Jump on my mark."

"No! You can't leave John!" Moira cried, almost rising from her seat.

An explosion filled the viewport as the two ships seemingly collided. Blinding lights filled the view. The Daedalus rocked as debris smashed the shield. Slowly the viewport cleared. Space was littered with parts of a ship. But mostly clear as the explosion had flung everything in every direction away from the Daedalus.

"Sheppard? Sheppard, do you read?" Steven demanded. Tense seconds stretched, stretched. Stretching indefinitely as Moira clutched the chair, every nerve straining. Heart hammering. Gripped by fear and despair she bit her lip.

Until a familiar, if rasping voice crackled over the comm. "This is Sheppard...permission to board...up...venting atmosphere badly...need...lost wing to..."

"Permission granted! Get a med team to the F302 bay STAT! Once he's aboard jump on my mark!" Steven ordered. "Hive ships!"

"Still closing in, sir!"

Moira released the breath she had been holding. Unstrapped and leapt from her chair. Ran for the bay. Rodney was on her heels. "Moira!" he called. "He'll be fine! If anyone can fly a crippled fighter it's John!"

John was barely conscious. He managed to fly his one-winged aircraft into the bay where he landed hard. Squealing as the gears locked and the ship streaked along the floor, nearly slamming into another fighter. As the doors closed and air pressure returned he popped the canopy. Which promptly shattered and hit the floor in a thousand pieces. He clambered out of the craft, but could see little through his cracked visor. He felt blood running down the back of his neck. He saw Moira running, swimming in and out of his vision. He smiled. Fell to the floor.

"Got him! Jump!"

The ship veered and leapt into the hyperspace window. Moira fell to her knees, unstrapping John's helmet. "John!" She saw the blood, the bruises, but his breathing was steady. Strong.

Rodney caught her arm. "Let them work, Moira." He helped her to her feet, guided her back as the med team swarmed over the inert pilot.

"He'll be okay, right? I mean, I mean he made it this far, right?" she asked.

"Yes. He's stubborn. He'll be fine," Rodney assured, gazing in dismay at the wreck of a ship. Then the wreck of his friend as he was lifted onto a rolling cart and wheeled out of the bay. Dripping blood spattered on the floor. "He'll be okay," Rodney insisted.

* * *

John blinked. Woke. Felt the hard cot under him. The motion of the ship. Felt an IV stuck to his hand. Scowled. He turned his head to see Moira. She was sitting close, pensive. Appearing tired, frazzled. He reached out, touched her hand. "Moy."

She met his gaze, startled. "John! You stupid, selfish bastard!"

"Huh?"

She moved to sit on the bed, leaned down to kiss him. "Damn it, John! What the hell did you do?"

"Saved you. Saved our baby," he croaked, coughed. Fingers tightening on hers. "Where–"

"Two days out from Atlantis. Damn hero," she muttered. She kissed him again. "Rest."

"Moy. Moy-toy...you..." he smiled. "Wow...what am I on, Moira? Hey...did I dream all of that? You...you are pregnant?"

"Yes, now hush! Rest, sweetie. You are on the good stuff, John. You were severely injured. I...I thought I lost..." She swallowed, submerged the fear, the despair.

"Severe? Moy...I...what? I...those people were weird, Moy, primitive, like the others we did see on wow...what baby..." He drifted to sleep, closing his eyes.

"What?" She shook her head, watching him. Although assured by the doctors he was fine she could not help but worry. The scans showed no damage to his head, his skull, his brain. Still she knew she would not relax until Carson had seen him and cleared him. She looked over as Rodney neared.

"Any change?"

"He woke, briefly. Seemed fine, although he rambled a bit at the end. The drugs."

"Good." Rodney relaxed. "Thank God he has a hard head."

She smiled. "Don't I know it."

Rodney smiled. "Do you need anything?"

"No. I'm fine. Thank you."

"We'll be home in two days. Then Carson can check him out."

"That's exactly what I was thinking."

* * *

John heard voices, one of them Moira's. He woke but kept his eyes closed. Listening. His head ached. His body ached.

"Anyway," she was saying, "thank you, Steven."

John almost opened his eyes, wondering who the hell Steven was. A doctor? When he heard the other voice he got his answer. Startling him.

"Think nothing of it, Moira," Steven assured with a smile. "Your husband saved us back there, although he did damage one of my ships and I don't think it can be repaired."

John tensed. Wondering since when had they been on a first name basis. Suspicious. Becoming irate at the thought.

"As long as he can be repaired," Moira commented.

"Yes. Seriously, anything you need just let me know and it is yours," Steven offered.

"That's very generous of you, Steven. Thank you. If I think of anything you will be the first I call," she replied.

John waited. Silence. He opened his eyes. Moira was alone. Sitting in the chair by his bed, reading a book. Biting her lower lip. He waited, waited until he heard that small sound she always made. Turned the page. "Steven?"

Moira looked over at him, set the book aside. "John? How do you..no, no no! John!" She leapt to her feet but he was sitting now, stubbornly moving, clicking on the bed to make its back rise to support him.

"Steven?" he repeated. "Since when do you call my commanding officer Steven? And he's calling you Moira now? How long have I been out of it? Is he your substitute colonel while I'm stuck here? Do you prefer a full colonel to a lieutenant colonel in your bed now? Are you fucking him, Moira? Are you–" The words came fast, furious. A nonsensical rush.

"John!" she exclaimed, shocked. She smacked his hand.

"Ow!"

"Calm down! Geez! You are the only colonel I want in my bed and out of it. I'm a civilian so I can call him by his first name, and he can call me by mine. We don't need to be so formal. Relax. You're my commanding officer in every respect. So hush."

He shrugged. Blinked. "Sorry. It's...the meds, I guess. I..." he added gruffly, "Moira, are you okay? What did he do for you? Did he get you–"

"For you, John! It's what he did for you, at my request. You're getting upset over nothing, sweetie. You are getting the best care. You are not being disturbed at my request. I've been with you twenty-four seven. Okay?"

"Okay. Sorry. The meds," he explained. Blinked. Reached for her. She moved to sit on the bed, caught his hand in hers. "Are you still pregnant with John junior?"

"No, John, I'm pregnant with Cuchulainn Cillian Aislin, so relax."

He frowned. "Huh? It's not funny, Moira!"

"I think it is, John. Your expression," she teased. Laughed gently.

He scowled. "Not hilarious, Moira! If I was feeling better I'd spank that pert little ass blue." He smiled. "Then I'd take it hard against a wall while my fingers thrust right into your–"

"John! Not hilarious, John! Behave." She kissed him lightly. "You need to–" But he yanked her into a long, slow kiss. Possessing her mouth, opening her lips to his. Trying to insert his tongue but she pulled back, flustered. "Better, baby. Like you want me."

"Behave!" she repeated, moving back into her chair as the doctor neared.

"Awake at last, Colonel Sheppard? Let's take a look at you. Doctor O'Meara, if you wouldn't mind?" The older man gestured her away from the bed.


	6. Chapter 6

Sympatric Speciation6

John blinked. He felt woozy, disorientated for a moment. "Wait!" he demanded. "Doctor O'Meara? What now? Did you divorce me when I was out cold? Out saving that pert little ass and my–"

"John! No! But I might if you don't lose the attitude!" she flared.

John eyed the doctor. "It's Sheppard, damn it! Moira Sheppard! As in Mrs. Colonel John Sheppard! My wife!"

"Is he all right?" the doctor asked, perplexed. Glancing to Moira who stood hugging her book.

"I'm fine, damn it! Moira! Tell him!" he ordered fiercely. Glowering.

"He's fine, doctor. Give us a minute, please." Moira waited as the doctor nodded, moved across the room. She set the book on the chair, stepped to the bed. Touched John's shoulder. Ran her fingers along his scruffy beard. "John, what is wrong with you?"

"With me? You! That's what is wrong with me. You are Moira Sheppard. Not O'Meara! I don't care if you are doctor or missus or missus colonel or doctor colonel you are a Sheppard. Mine. You are Moira Sheppard and you are carrying John Sheppard junior. Got it, baby? You are both Sheppards!"

"Okay, John. Geez!" She kissed him. "Take it easy, sweetie. John? Are you feeling all right? Please let the doctor take a look at you."

"Fine." He sat back. Groaned. "Just don't pull that O'Meara crap again, damn it," he warned. Sulked.

"Okay, colonel. Doctor!" she called, stepping away from the bed. Bewildered by his mood, his words. His irate possessiveness. She stood as the doctor returned. He checked the chart, the IV. Checked John's head, his eyes, his pulse. Held up a scanner to exam his injuries, his head again. Shook his own head. Moved past Moira but turned back to her as she followed after him.

"He's fine. Recovering nicely, considering. He took quite a blow to the head but I see no indications of any internal damage or bleeding. The brief loss of oxygen could be affecting his short-term memory, but that should pass. The meds could be affecting him, so I will lower the dosages."

"How long does he have to stay here? I mean, can he recuperate in his cabin? He hates infirmary beds, and we are almost to Atlantis."

"I think he'd be better off here until we reach Atlantis. I don't have a full compliment of scanners or even a MRI so he will need to be thoroughly checked there. The cuts and bruises are superficial. It's the head that still concerns me but so far I see nothing to cause alarm."

John had been listening, watching them. Gazing intently at Moira's back. The fall of her ponytail. Her rear snug in the pale blue slacks. Until Rodney suddenly blocked his view.

"John? How are you feeling?"

"Like crap," he snapped, glancing at his friend. "Move!"

"Huh? Oh..." Rodney smiled, smirked and stepped aside so John could stare unhindered.

"Tell me, Rodney, when did Caldwell and my wife become so damn chummy?"

"Chummy? Moira and Caldwell? I would never call them that, John. What are you talking about? Oh! Did you find out if she's–"

"I mean he's bending over backwards for her. And by God she'd better not be doing the same."

"What? John, listen to yourself! You're not making any sense. Moira hasn't left your side and she–"

"Hey, doc!" John called. "That's my wife you're chatting up there so just be aware I am right here!"

"John?" Moira glanced at him, shrugged at the doctor and moved to the bed. Met Rodney's gaze. "Rodney, what is he on about?"

"You tell me. He was going on about Caldwell like he was jealous."

"What? John, what's wrong with you?" Moira asked, glancing at the doctor.

"That's right, buddy, hands off! She's mine!" John declared, still glaring at the medic.

"John!" Moira scolded. "I'm sorry, Alan, I don't know why he's–"

"Alan? Just how many of these men do you know on a first name basis?" John demanded.

"Um, John, maybe you should dial down the hostility not to mention the testosterone," Rodney suggested.

Moira frowned, sat close. Shooed Rodney away with her hands. The scientist crossed to the doctor, began to berate him. Moira caught John's hand in hers. "John? Sweetie, are you feeling all right?"

"I'm fine, now. Stop asking me that! Keep that pert little ass parked right here, baby. It's mine. Or don't you remember?"

She stroked his hand. Touched his face. The bruise near his eyes. The scruffy beard. "I remember, John. Ssh. How is your head? You took quite a knock to it...maybe that is why your perceptions are altered."

"My head hurts, but I'm fine, Moira. Don't you worry, baby. No one is touching you, or taking you from me. You may think you've got the better of me now, but I can still take you when I want, where I want, how I want."

"Okay, John," she soothed, puzzled. "Relax. We're almost home."

The doctor approached, Rodney on his heels. "Sounds like I should run another CT scan. It's all I can do right now, and re-check his blood work for any–"

"No. I'm fine." His grip on Moira's hand tightened. "Get your eyes off my wife."

"John, you are not even yourself! Let the doctor do a–"

"No." Moira's terse word surprised Rodney and the doctor. Even John as he stared at her. "We have better equipment in Atlantis. Let Carson do it. Unless you think there's a medical necessity or–"

"No. His last scans were fine. I'll keep monitoring his progress. Scan him with the Ancient device later."

"Yeah, just talk about me like I'm not here," John grumbled. "But believe me, buddy, I am here."

"Maybe it would be better if you left, Doctor O'Meara, er, Doctor Sheppard. Moira."

"No! Moira stays right here."

"I'll stay," she agreed to John's curt tone. Turned to him. "Relax, John. We are almost home. Lay back, please. I'm right here." He considered, did so as the bed lowered him flat on his back. She scooted closer. Caressed his temples. "How's that?"

"Better," he grumpily admitted.

She exchanged a shrug with Rodney. Caressed gently. Considered. "Do you remember when we were talking about the evolution of elephants? The several different species and branches that once existed?"

"You were talking about the–" Rodney began, incredulous.

"Rodney, not now!" Moira snapped. Gentled her voice. "John?"

He was relaxing under her caresses. Her nearness. Her voice. "Yes, Moira. Proboscids. Deinotheres, mastodons, mammoths, gomphotheres, stegodontids."

She smiled. Leaned close to brush her lips across his. "Yes, colonel. Each species is quite diverse, evoking an evolutionary tree, not a straight line but several branches. Different ecological niches filled by diversity over time. Affecting tusk placement, ears, everything we would recognize as an elephant today. But the prehistoric diversity was truly staggering! Let me give you another example..."

As she talked and talked John relaxed. Her touches so gentle. The press of her thigh against his hip warm. Her voice soft, full of enthusiasm, of love. He tried to stay away, actually interested, but she began getting more technical. Spouting impossibly long Latin names and phrases. He drifted into sleep at last, his hold on her hand relaxing.

Moira slowed her speech. Paused. She eyed the doctor and Rodney who were staring at her. "Alan, do your scans now, please. Quickly."

"Quickly? That should have put him out for hours," quipped Rodney.

"Ha ha," she smiled. Freed her hand and moved to the chair, book in her lap as the doctor grabbed his equipment. Quickly scanned the sleeping man as if afraid to awaken his ire once more.

* * *

John stirred. Rolled awkward onto his side but the IV yanked his awake with pain. He opened his eyes, sat. Touched his face. The bruise near his eye. His scruffy beard. He looked over at the bed near his. Moira was curled onto it, asleep. He stared, feeling a surge of love, protectiveness as she appeared so vulnerable. His eyes followed her curves, up and down, then back to her face. Strands of hair had escaped her ponytail to snake across one pale cheek.

He braced himself, yanked out the IV. Shut down the monitor before an alarm could sound. He scooted over swung his legs off the bed. Felt woozy. Waited until his head cleared. Stood. Stepped to her bed. Sat on it. Close. Closer. Glanced around the empty infirmary. Looked back at her. He touched her arm. Shook gently. "Moira?" He shook again. "Moira." She stirred, rolling onto her back. He shook her hard. "Moira!"

Her eyes flew open. John clamped his other hand on her mouth, silencing her. "Ssh!" he warned, leaning close. Gaze locked with hers. "Moira, we have to get out of here. I need your help. We have to be quiet. Clever. I need my clothes and weapons. Then we'll go. All right?"

She stared, perplexed. But nodded. He smiled, freed her mouth. Replacing his hand with his mouth as he kissed her. Sat back. "John? What the–"

"Ssh!" He looked around. "Let's go, Moira. Silently. I can get you to safety, I promise."

"Huh?" She sat, catching his arm. "John, I am safe. We're safe here. On the Daedalus. Don't you remember? Listen to me, sweetie. We're fine. We'll be in Atlantis tomorrow. Okay?"

"Will we?" he questioned, meeting her worried gaze. "I don't think so, Moira. Something's not right here. First Steven, then Alan. O'Meara. I don't know what's going on but the sooner we are off this ship the better. For all of us." He glanced down at her abdomen.

"John, no. There's nothing going on. You've been injured, saving all of us. You need to rest. Relax. I'm fine. John, listen to me," she said, before he could move, "there's nothing wrong here. Not a thing. You have to trust me, John, please." She kissed him. "Please, sweetie, trust me. We're fine. We're fine. John, John..." she took his hand, placed it on her abdomen. "I'm going to have your child, John. But I need you to trust me, okay? If it wasn't safe I would tell you. Immediately. Okay? You need to relax. Here. Please." She eased him onto the bed, onto his back. Sat very close. "John?"

He was staring at her, head aching. Thoughts blurring, clearing, blurring. His fingers pressed to her abdomen. "I...I have to protect. You. Our son. Moira...the ship...the ship was heading straight for you, for both of you and I..."

"You destroyed it, John. You saved us. You saved everyone. Now I need you to rest." She caressed his temples again, showering soft kisses on his lips, his cheek. His brow. "My John."

He relaxed, blinked. "Moira? I...wow...I remember that...I...fuck. I feel like I'm floating half the time, or else you are in danger. Moira...you, you're pregnant."

She smiled. "Ssh, I know, sweetie. Ssh." She scooted, resting on his chest. His arm went around her, stroking her back. "It's all right, John. We'll be home soon. Tell me about that planet. Was it completely deserted?"

"No. It...that was what I wanted to tell you, Moira. There were people there, but not really. I mean they were primitive, even before cavemen status, but not quite human either. I can't explain it, exactly. They had no kind of language and only rudimentary skills, but sheltered us. They were cannibals. We shared our limited MREs with them. They...there was something else. I felt eyes on us, but not them. Something else. A city. A ruined city but it was built by aliens...it wasn't designed for any kind of human or Wraith. We may have found the indigenous population you were looking for, except they are extinct."

Moira lifted to view his face. "Maybe. This population of proto-humans? I wonder how long they have been isolated on that planet? Genetic isolation could cause all kinds of disorders and malformations. Maybe even sympatric speciation."

"Come again?" he asked, still stroking her back. Feeling more like himself as they talked. As her body was pressed to his, warm and soft. Her love enveloping him.

"Sympatric speciation," she repeated softly, thinking. "The genetic isolation of individual organisms occupying a common area. They become a new species and cannot breed with the old one from which they devolved. Perhaps they were fully human once, but out here, with a malfunctioning Stargate their development was hindered, as was their ability to adapt and to evolve. Both physically and technologically." She frowned. "I wonder if the Wraith out here would be the same. There are a few of these deserted planets on the grid. All of them at the fringes of the galaxy. John?" She smiled.

John had closed his eyes. Lulled into comfort by her body, her voice. His hand slowing, stopping on her back. "Sympatric speciation," he muttered drowsily.

She kissed him, rested on him carefully. Knew he needed the feel of her on him. "Yes. And that city? An alien race we've yet encountered, wiped out by either the Wraith or the Ancients. Intriguing. You always bring back more questions than answers, John. Let's get some rest and tackle this in the morning, okay?"

"Okay, baby...don't you worry," he muttered, arm tightening around her for a moment, then relaxing as he fell asleep.

Moira relaxed, staring at the darkness. Waiting until he was asleep. Secure. She shifted a little, trying to get comfortable, half on the bed, half on him, feet on the floor. Caught in an odd position of half-sitting, half-sprawling, but she didn't want to move. She pondered his words, his observations. His odd reactions and overly protective concerns.


	7. Chapter 7

Sympatric Speciation7

Moira smiled. The green light scanned John's body once more, crossing along his long, lean form as he was reclined on a cot. She followed the beam as it traveled up his bare feet, up his long legs. Up to his crotch. Up his hips, his waist, his lean torso. His long arms. His broad shoulders. His long neck. His handsome face still covered by the scruffy growth of beard and mustache. His disordered hair against the white pillow. The scan lingered on his head, slowing, bathing his expression of consternation in an emerald glow. Until Carson shut it down.

"Well, he'll be fine now." Carson smiled, turned to Moira as she met his gaze. "The pain meds had an adverse reaction, and the disorientation did a number on his oxygen-deprived brain. Plus subdural pressure caused all sorts of delusions, paranoia. I 've relived the pressure. His overriding concern to protect you dominated every thought, every emotion. But he's fine now. He still needs to take it easy, to rest. He's off active duty for at least a week."

"Thank God," she murmured, feeling tears. She touched Carson's arm. "That doctor...he didn't seem to know what was wrong, he, he..."

"It's all right, Moira. I could only detect this with these scanners, otherwise even I couldn't have seen it. But we caught it in time and he's fine. Lucky for John he's got a hard head."

"Hey!" John sat, groaned. Swung his legs over the edge of the cot. Saw Moira's expression of relief and sorrow. Tears glimmering in her brown eyes. "Crap. That bad, sweetheart?"

"No. You're fine, John!" She moved to him, took his hand.

Carson joined them. "Welcome back, colonel. I was just telling Moira you were on one hell of a trip. But you're fine now."

"Yeah, thanks to my hard head," he noted sourly, making them smile. "Moira, I didn't hurt you, did I?" he asked.

"No, of course not, John. You never would."

"Frankly, I'm more concerned about you, love," Carson noted.

"Me? Why?" she asked, glancing at the doctor.

"You're exhausted, love. You haven't left his side in how many days? And nights? You need to sleep in your own bed, not here."

"I'm not leaving John," she stubbornly asserted. Fingers tightening over his hand.

"I know. So I'm releasing him."

"What?" she exclaimed. "You can't! He's suffered major head trauma! You–"

"He's fine now. He needs to sleep in his own bed as do you. John," he eyed the other man, "I need you to look after your wife. She needs to sleep, really sleep and stop worrying about you night and day. Make sure she rests. You told him?" he asked, glancing at Moira.

She nodded, suddenly embarrassed. She eyed the floor.

"Good," Carson noted with a smile. "Congratulations to both of you. John, you need to look after her now more than ever. Make sure she rests and is comfortable, is happy. These early months are critical, I cannot stress that enough. She needs you, John, to be here with her, not flying off on some damn heroic stunt."

"Carson!" Moira exclaimed, meeting his gaze. "You can't–"

"I can and I will, believe me, Moira. You've been working non-stop on several projects at once and now this? It's not good for either of you."

"Don't worry, doc," John assured, moving to his feet, "I will look after her every need." He slid his bare feet into a pair of slippers. "Let's go, sweetheart."

"Wait!" She grabbed a robe. "Here!" She helped him into it. Pulled it closed around him. "We don't want the whole city to see your, um, your, um, your ordnance," she whispered.

"My what?" He glanced down. The white scrubs were sheer. Clingy. He smirked as she secured the belt, the robe over him. "Ah."

"Ah indeed, colonel. That's my purview. Mine." She kept hold of the robe's belt. Led him. "Are you all right, John? Do you need help?"

"I'm fine, Moira. Fine. I'm loving the view back here," he teased. "Hey, how long have I been–"

"A day. Nearly two. Scared everyone half to death, John, but Carson fixed you."

"Sorry. Could you, um, could you walk a little faster?" he suggested, gaze glued to her rear encased in a pair of dark brown pants.

She sighed. "Hilarious, John. Shut up."

He laughed. "Come on, Moira, damn...I haven't had that pert little ass in, let's see..."

"Enough!" She drew him into their room, then across the open threshold to his. "Colonel." She turned to him.

"Hey, I want your bed, our bed, baby. You...you..." His gaze wandered over her. "Hmm...Moira, you look...you..."

"John, you look like a wild man! Not my clean-cut colonel at all. Do you feel up to a shower and a shave?"

He smiled. "Will you join me?"

"No." His smile faded. "Later, sweetie. I'm so tired...I...oh John!" Suddenly she was in his arms, kissing him. Kiss after kiss. Wanting. Needing.

His arms encircled her. "Baby...oh Moira, my Moira...you sure you don't want me like this? Rough and ready?" he teased. He kissed her again, running his hands over her. "Hmm..." he stepped back to cup her breasts. "Damn...I knew the girls were different! Moira."

"Hush, John, they are not! Oh John!" She kissed him, but drew back. Rubbed her chin, her cheek. "Tickles."

He raised a brow. "Ooh, baby, just think what I can do with that intel." His gaze wandered over her again. "What about John junior? Will he be all right if we–"

"Will you stop that? There is no baby yet! Just a collection of cells to–"

"Will you stop that?" he echoed. Frowned. " That's our son you are talking about, Moira." He smiled. Tilted his head to give a flirtatious expression. Licked his lips. "Baby, have you ever done it with a bearded man?"

She laughed. "No, actually. Sweetie, have you ever done it with a pregnant woman?"

He grinned. "No. Not yet, anyway. Moira." He kissed her, drew her into his arms. Began to guide her backwards to their room. Their bed. "I want you now. Now. I can't wait, baby, I want to explore every bit of you. Every voluptuous curve and swell," he wooed. He kissed her, kept kissing her until she bumped into the bed. His mouth left hers to trail down her throat as his hands slid up her back. Freed her ponytail. Then down to gently squeeze her rear.

She gasped in response, murmured. Hands sliding along his shoulders, his arms, his chest. "John, oh John...John..."

"Moira, I want you. I want all of you." He moved her onto the bed. Onto her back. Following as he kissed her repeatedly. She responded with equal ardor, kissing and caressing. Running her fingers through his longer hair, tugging. Inviting his tongue into her mouth. Inviting his cock as she spread her legs. Felt his hardness pressing, pressing.

He sat. Smiled. Licked his lips slowly. "Baby, you are so beautiful...damn..." He pulled off the robe, the shirt. Gingerly touched the bruise at his side.

"John?" She sat, touched his hand there. "Are you all right? We should wait."

"No. I'm fine. Just be gentle with me, but not too gentle." He kissed her.

Moira ran her hands along his side, his back. His chest, marveling over the lean muscles, the tangles of dark hair. "John...John, you know the best part?" She kissed him, whispered in his ear, "Naked cock from now on."

He grinned. "Excellent, baby! To be honest I don't like those condoms. I want to feel every sweet inch of you, every–" She kissed him again, cutting him off. He stood, slipped off the pants. He glanced back at her, scowled. "No comments, baby, I swear!"

She smirked. "Who? Me? Goodness, colonel...I never would have guess you had that color on under those–"

"Moira, hush! I'll lose deployment!" he snapped, but smiled at her teasing. "Get your fucking clothes off, baby, and stop ogling me!"

She laughed. "Sorry, sweetie, there's just so much to ogle. Wow." She pulled off her shirt, stood and turned away to remove her pants. She heard the bed creak as John sat upon it, staring at her. Heard his groan of appreciation as she wiggled, leaning, pants sliding down to reveal her lacy gray panties.

"Damn...I want that pert little ass," he teased. "Moira, could you...oh God...oh yeah..." he enthused happily as she obligingly leaned over, way over, wriggling to his satisfaction. "Fuck," he moaned.

She sighed, shook her head fondly. "I don't know why this makes you so happy, John," she grumbled. Wiggled her hips. Straightened.

"It makes me rock hard too, baby. Finest pert little ass in two galaxies, I swear! Moira, get that pert little ass over here...oh my..."

She had turned, frowning at him. Suddenly self-conscious. She sat on the bed, blushing. "John, don't," she warned, voice soft, fraught with desire.

"No." He gently touched her lips, kissed her. Sat back to gaze upon her. Upon her loose hair cascading all around her, down to her chest. Upon the lacy gray bra. Upon her breasts pushing up, out of the material. He licked his lips. Touched her shoulders. Slid the straps down, down. Ran his fingers lightly over the swells of her breasts. "Fuck..."

"John! They're not that much–"

"Oh, they are, and remember, baby, I should know. They are even more beautiful and I didn't think that was even possible," he said low, voice serious. Gaze serious as his brilliant green eyes took in every swell, every curve of her flesh. Of the hardening nipples pressing the lacy fabric of the bra. He kissed her lengthily, reaching around to unhook the bra. Remove it as he kept kissing her. Lips taking hers, mouth sucking, soothing. Wooing as his tongue danced along hers. He nibbled her earlobe, ran his mouth down her throat, causing her to giggle, push at him.

"Tickles, John," she said.

He laughed gently. "Delicious!" He sat back. "Fuck...oh fuck...Moira..." He cupped her breasts, caressing. His calloused thumbs running along the hard, rosy nipples. She squirmed, moved onto her back suddenly. He followed, kissing her. Ran his mouth slowly down her throat, across her collar bone. Her shoulder. Then to her breasts as his hands stroked her sides, her hips. Fingering the panties at last. Caressing. Feeling her wetness, her eagerness.

"John...oh John! Oh John," she purred, whimpering, arching into him. Into his calloused hands stroking her thighs, her pelvis. Into his lean, hard chest, the coarse hairs brushing her soft skin. Into his mouth as he circled, tongue flicking over one breast, then the other. Finally kissing, sucking greedily, nibbling as his coarse beard rubbed, irritated the sensitive skin to erotic heights of anticipation. As his fingers slid into the panties and plied her, searching, seeking. Knuckles hard against her cleft, rubbing dexterously. "Rough! John, rough, please rough!"

John finally freed a breast, smiled. Met her amorous, sparkling gaze. "So fucking beautiful, baby, damn...I could suck on your fucking tits all day. Damn you are beautiful! You..rough? You want it rough? Are you sure?"

"Yes, John! Rough, rough, please, fuck me, John!" she urged, squirming under him. Pulling him to her to kiss, to arouse. Whimpering with raw animal need. The need to be taken, to be possessed. To be handled roughly, but not hurt. Trusting him completely.

"All right, baby, hold on tight." He kissed down her waist, teased her scar. Tenderly kissed her abdomen. "Hey, John junior, hold on tight. I'm about to deploy my entire arsenal on your–"

"John! Stop that! You can't oh God, oh God, oh God!" she pleaded, squirming as he yanked off her panties. Kissed up her thighs, shoving them wide. Moira tensed, grabbing his arms, arching, lifting but he kissed up, around along her hips. Teasing her, taunting her until he was about to come on the bed, erection throbbing with need, lust. "John!" she cried, and he slid up, thrust into her hard. Began a steady, rough rhythm. Groaning as she was so tight, wet, not quite ready but ready enough as he took her repeatedly. She clenched on him the way he liked, the way he craved. Harder. Harder still.

"How's that, baby?" he asked, voice husky. Rocking the bed. "More?" he asked, feeling the pleasure build, build. The intimate contact of friction, release moving them faster, faster. Heightened sensations as he kissed her breasts, mouth sloppily moving up to hers. As she circled his ear, bit. Bit harder to make him thrust harder, deeper.

"John! Oh John, yes! Yes, harder! Rougher, rougher oh God that is so close! John, John!" she cried with each thrust. The bed rocking wildly now. She clawed his back, straining, clenching, unable to resist the cresting waves of pleasure, possession. Passion as he moved faster, faster. But still he held back, uncertain.

"Are you sure, baby? What about John junior and–"

"Cut it out, John! It will be fine! Bring me, John, bring me hard! Please! Oh John, John, oh John!" she demanded, writhing under him. Nails running along his bare back.

"Fuck! Okay, baby, damn! Full fucking throttle. Hold on tight. You too John junior!"

"Damn it, John, stop that! You..." The rest was lost in a moan, a cry as the climax slammed, throbbing wildly in her, on her. Tears filled her eyes as the pleasure swept her under, over, as John groaned loudly and swore as he came. Releasing at last, jerking wildly, spurting as he rushed to orgasm, taking her with him yet again.

"Fuck! Oh fuck, fuck! So fucking sweet!" he growled, falling upon her at last. Pleasure rushing, inundating him, her. "Moira, oh Moira, so fucking sweet!" He shifted his weight off her, slid out and kissed her. "Baby, oh baby...I so needed that! As did you, apparently. Moira, that was absolutely exquisite."

She kissed him, pulling him onto her. "Don't move, John! I won't break. That was exquisite! John, oh John...again in five?"


	8. Chapter 8

Sympatric Speciation8

John laughed weakly. Exhausted. Spent. Sated. He rolled onto his back, sprawling on the bed.

"Okay. Whatever you want, baby. But make it ten, okay?"

Moira laughed. Rolled to slide on top of him. Stroked his scruffy jaw. "Ten?"

"Yeah. I'm not up to specs yet. In fact it's your turn. Ride me. Ride me hard, baby. I want to watch that voluptuous body ride me hard."

"Shut up!" She kissed him. Tugged his beard. "This has to go. Seriously. Now."

"Now? Oh...we can shower and then–"

"No. You can shower and shave, colonel. If you make yourself all pretty for me than I will ride you. Ride you hard, sweetie. Test that hard, big ordnance to its limits, that is, if you can get it up again. Make it so hard, so fucking hard, colonel."

He smiled. Kissed her, guiding her mouth to his. "Don't you worry, baby, I'll be at full salute if you keep talking like that. But do I have to–"

"Yes." She slid off him, sat. Covered herself with a blanket. "Go!" She pointed towards the bathroom. Waited.

He sulked. Pouted. But sat. "Only because you said you'd ride me. Hard."

"I will, sweetie, if it's possible. Scoot!" He kissed her, got up and headed for his room. She sighed, smiled. "Damn, John, could you walk a little slower? What a fine, fine ass you have there, sweetie. The finest six in two galaxies, I swear!"

He snorted. "Hilarious, Moira!" But he laughed, entered his bathroom.

Moira laughed, got into the bed, under the blankets. Waited, relaxing, resting. Body still thrumming from the sex, the pleasure. The intimacy. She heard the water running. Imagined him in there and smiled. Closed her eyes, picturing him clean-shaven. Naked.

John returned. Hair damp. Clean-shaven. Naked. He walked to the bed, smiled. Moira was on her side, snuggled in the bed. Fast asleep. He slid in next to her, spooned against her. "Moira?" He kissed her bare shoulder. Ran his hand along her side, her hip. "You promised me a ride, baby. Hard," he teased.

She stirred, moving. Shoving her rear into his crotch. "John, later...ride you hard...so hard, sweetie...so..." she muttered.

"Okay, then." He kissed her, settled. Relaxing. Tired. Sated. Happy. He slid his hand up to her breasts. Then down to gently cover her waist, her abdomen. Closed his eyes and promptly fell into a sound sleep.

* * *

Moira stirred. Woke with a smile, feeling John snuggled against her. His firm, warm body pressed along hers. His gentle breathing warm across her throat. His hand splayed across her abdomen, as if protecting their child even in his sleep. She shifted, stroking his arm. Slowly scooted onto her back, then to face him. Smiled. Touched his clean-shaven face. The strong jaw line once more exposed. His hair nearly dry, disordered. A little longer, but she knew he would have it cut immediately. Bangs falling haphazardly across his forehead. Eyes closed, revealing long, lush lashes most women would kill for. She ran her hand down his arm, his chest. Caressing the muscles, the warmth, the hair. So sexy, so beautiful. So hers. She lightly kissed him, entranced by his mouth. The full lips at rest but still so kissable. The perfect Cupid's bow inviting passion, admiration. Lust. "John? Jo-hn," she teased into his ear.

John smiled, feeling her. As she pressed her body to his, all softness and curves and warmth. As she circled his ear with kisses. Lips soft, moist. Tongue teasing, arousing. Her long hair spilling over him, tickling. He rolled onto his back. She slid closer. Hand running down to his waist. His pelvis. Nails running up and down his cock which was already reacting, stirring to her touch, her voice. She kissed him again. Slow. Savoring. His mouth responded to hers.

Moira smiled. "John...sweetie, I know you're awake. Or at least your ordnance is." His smile broke into a grin. He opened his eyes and Moira lost herself in the green, sparkling depths. Until his gaze lowered to her breasts, pressed together, brushing his arm as she lifted a little. Her brown hair spilling over them, strands curling along her rosy nipples.

"Fuck," he muttered, aroused.

"Lovely, John. Such a romantic," she teased. He laughed, met her gaze.

"Yeah, that's me, baby. Colonel Romance, at your service." He kissed her, stroked her hair. Drew her down to nibble her earlobe, her throat. To caress her arm, then her breasts.

"Oh John, John..." she sighed dreamily.

"Moira." He pulled her onto him. Lightly slapped her rear.

"Hey! You–"

He laughed. "Ride me, baby. Hard. Like you promised."

"Hmm..okay, sweetie. You certainly are pretty enough now," she praised with a loving sigh.

"Hilarious, Moira. Ride me. Hard. Now!"

"Yes, sir! Oh! Are you hard enough to...oh, I guess you are," she realized, laughing as he was practically springing up under her hand now. She gently squeezed, eliciting a groan from him. She freed him. Sat. He stared, smiling, avid gaze locked on her as the blankets fell from her body. As she shifted, opening her thighs, lifted and took his now very erect cock into her. She whimpered. Arched and moaned, moving up and down on him, enjoying the sensation of him sliding, throbbing. Of being in control of each motion, each delicious stroke of her nub, over and over. Her hands grabbed his hips, his thighs.

John groaned, rock hard, aroused by the sensations. Gliding in and out of her. Each thrust becoming easier as she flooded. Each motion urging him up, up as her hips shifted, as she clenched on him. By the sight of her naked body gyrating on him. Her hair flying all around her. Rear bouncing on him. Breasts bouncing as she moved faster, harder. John reached but could only brush her nipples with the tips of his fingers as she scooted back, leaning, thighs widening to take all of him into her. He moaned, watching their intimacy, the joining of their bodies. He was coming hard now, thrusting up into her. "Baby, oh baby! Fuck me, Moira, fuck me hard!" he groaned.

She grabbed his hand suddenly, began to suck his forefinger. Tongue swirling, sucking hard. Arousing him wildly. He groaned, jerking inside her. She gently bit his finger and he thrust his pelvis, his hips, nearly knocking her off him. "Oh John!" she whimpered, voice a stuttering whisper. "John! John, John, John!" she exulted, coming with increasing motion, speed. She arched, freeing his hand to shove it away, to claw at his chest, his thighs.

John smiled, watching her come, her every motion, every sound sheer pleasure to him. He caught her hips, her rear, sitting now to thrust deeper, harder. He grunted, shoving himself into her, faster, faster, harder until she cried out and he swore, spasms rocking him at last. "Fuck!" he exclaimed, falling back onto the bed as the orgasm slammed into them. "Moira! Moira, no, no, no wait!"

Moira slowed, slowed, leaned down to kiss him. "John? Did I hurt you?" She touched his side, still gently rocking on him.

"No, baby...you...oh shit, you really turned me on...I um, I haven't exactly come enough to...I need a little kinky to...fuck this." He grabbed her. Lifted her suddenly to free himself. She squealed in surprise, scrambling on the bed.

"John? I...I'm sorry, I...I thought you..."

He kissed her, amused at her flustered state. It only made his hunger worse. "You are too fucking arousing, too fucking beautiful... I need it hard, Moira. Now." He rolled her onto her stomach.

"Oh, oh you..." she stammered, scooted up and moved up onto her knees. Spread her thighs. She grabbed the headboard. "You still need to fix this, sweetie!" She frowned. "John?" She looked over her shoulder. She rolled her eyes. "Sweetie!"

"Huh?" John was sitting, knees folded under him as he stared raptly at the curves of her back, sloping down to her rear. "Moira...even your pert little ass is more voluptuous...it's absolute perfection now...fuck..." He ran his hand along it.

"John! Get over it, will you? Geez!"

He laughed. Moved onto his knees behind her. Kissed her, body pressing hers. "It's true, baby, your pert little ass takes my breath away." He grinned, swept her hair away to kiss down her back. His hands slid down to her hips. Pulled her out a little. A little more. Ran his fingers up her inner thighs, parting them further, further.

Moira murmured, shifting at his touches, his kisses running down, down to her rear. His gentle bite and squeeze. She nearly cried out as he abruptly thrust into her. Groaned loudly. "John! Oh John, you ouch!"

"Sorry, easy, baby..." he slowed, began a gentle rhythm. Grabbed her wrists and pinned her to the wall, the headboard. Kissing her throat, her earlobe. Licking behind to make her whimper, to make her squirm. Thrusting a little deeper, a little harder now.

Moira moaned, but gasped as he abruptly freed her. Pulled out of her. Yanked her away from the wall, pushed her down into a lean. Began again, growling happily. She grabbed the headboard, tensing as he moved faster, harder. Straightening as he pulled her out further, into an awkward lean. Then pulled up straighter. His mouth moving on her shoulder, gently biting. Then on her throat, nibbling. His hands sliding to her cup her breasts, to knead and rub the nipples. Gently squeezing to make her moan, whimper, squirm even as he was thrusting eagerly now. A fast, fast rhythm rocking the bed, rocking them. One hand slid down, down, pausing on her abdomen.

"Hold on, John junior. Hope you like roller coasters," he huskily teased.

"Damn it, John, stop that! If you don't stop–"

"I have no intention of stopping, baby, unless you beg me," he said low, a sexual growl in his voice making her shiver.

"John! Oh John, John!" she sobbed as the pleasure grew, grew. Tension unbearable. His hand sliding down to her crotch. To tease, to ply her opening, seeking roughly. "Oh God, oh God, oh God!" she murmured breathlessly as he found what he sought. Thrusting harder now, faster, plying every pleasure spot, every sensitive fold. Grunting in time to her moans, her sobs, her stammers. He was everywhere on her, in her, plying every place to bring her. Bring her hard as the orgasms blossomed, erupted into a flooding climax that made her cry out, made her shiver, tremble as he completely controlled, possessed her.

"Fuck! Oh fuck, fuck, fuck, er fudge, fudge!" he corrected mid-groan, voice loud but he didn't care. A rush of orgasm heading right for him as she throbbed around him, pulsing to his thrusts, tightly over his engorged cock, flooding wildly. The spasms rippled, waves of release, of pleasure.

Moira cried out in a stuttering gasp, a sob as she was shoved up into the headboard, the wall, nearly swooning at the intense pleasure. The sudden deep thrust of his still hard, big cock. At the abrupt insertion of his fingers stroking her nub, plying. At the gentle bite of his hot mouth on her throat, her shoulder. At the sudden squeeze of one nipple by his other hand. She whimpered, lost her breath, melting in total surrender. Ecstasy.

John grunted in sheer physical pleasure, climax. He didn't even feel his hand smashing into the headboard, protecting her, but grazing his skin. Lost himself in the possession, the male dominance as he came almost violently. Releasing in a jerking, wild motion. Ejaculating wildly but he kept moving, moving, thrusting faster and faster until he nearly fell with exhaustion. He relaxed, lust receding, sated. He breathed deeply, leaned on her. Kissed her shoulder, her throat. Freed her breast. Pulled out his cock, his fingers at the same time, making her whimper, gasp.

He slid, fell to the bed, pulling her with him. On him. Catching her mouth with his repeatedly. Until she squirmed, slid off him, turned away from him. "Fuck, oh fuck," he gasped. Wiped his wet fingers on the blankets. The scent of sex strong in the air. Cock receding but the pleasure tingling, satisfaction making him smile. "Moira. Moira. Are you okay? I, um, I got a little carried away there, I guess. I...I didn't mean to be so, um, aggressive...a double, baby...fuck you turned me on so hard I thought I'd die if I didn't take you that way...I didn't hurt you, did I?" He looked over at her, wiped his sweaty brow. "Baby?"

"Fine, sweetie." Her voice was soft, breathless. "You didn't hurt me."

He rolled onto his side, spooned against her. "Moy?" He kissed her cheek, stroked her arm. "Are you um, I suppose you hate me now?"

"No." She turned to him. Brown eyes wide. Flustered expression. "It...it's too intense, John! My God! You...you...that double you...I mean it really was...you...oh John!" She snuggled against him, trembled with the wild pleasure, hunger. Passion. Possession.

He smiled, kissed her brow. Held her close. "Ah. A climax to end all climaxes? Doubly? Yeah. Me too, baby. Fuck. I'm exhausted but damn that was fucking incredible. My Moira. Moira? Sweetheart? It's all right. I'll try to, um, dial it down a little, okay? I forget how intense coitus is with Moira Sheppard. Moira Sheppard and those fucking beautiful tits and that sweet, sweet, tight little pussy and pert little–"

"John!" She hit his chest. "Shut up!" She yanked the blankets over them. Snuggled. Face hot. Embarrassed at the sexual excess. The enjoyment. The domination. "You son of a bitch!" she complained, despite the pleasure still echoing along her body. Along every intimate spot.

He smirked. Kissed her. "It's not my fault, baby. I can't get enough of you right now. All of you." He ran his hand down to her abdomen. "Sorry, John junior. That was one hell of a ride."

"John! Cut it out! Damn it!" She shoved his hand off her. "For the last time there's not even a baby yet!"

He kissed her. "There will be soon enough, Moira. Mine." He closed his eyes. "Go to sleep, sweetheart. We can have dinner later. Or is it lunch? I'm too tired to move right now. Okay? Sweetheart? I love you, Moira." He snorted. "I really, really, really, really love sex with my Moy-toy. Fuck it is good!"

"Shut up, John! You bastard!"she accused. But kissed him, nestling into him.

He laughed quietly. "As ordered, baby."


	9. Chapter 9

Sympatric Speciation9

John rolled over, flung his arms out across the bed. Felt the empty space beside him as he stretched his legs, reveling in the comfort, the size of the bed. "Moira?" He sat, awake. Yawned. Sunlight streamed into the room. He ran a hand through his hair. Heard the shower running. Grinned. He got up, walked into her bathroom. Stared at her naked silhouette. The water and soap sparkling along her skin. She arched to rinse her hair. "Fuck," he muttered. Glanced down to see his arousal already pointing the way. He smirked. "Moira?"

"Shit," she muttered. Had been enjoying the peaceful shower, the hot water and quiet. She paused. Peeked around the curtain to see him standing there. Naked. Aroused. "I thought you were asleep, sweetie so I...oh. Oh my. Oh my goodness! John! Are you kidding me?"

"It's not me, baby. May I? Please," he pouted.

"Fine!" she snapped, but smiled. "You know, John, you really should put a safety on that thing," she teased.

He moved to the shower, stepped in and stared hard at her. "Moira...oh Moira..." he growled, captivated by the sight of her wet, naked body. Water and suds coursing down her curves, her breasts, her crotch, her rear. He grabbed her, kissed her, moving her so the water hit him, pounding his back. "Moira, I have to, I have to...oh fuck I have to have this now!"

She smiled, watching the water drip form his hair, his skin. Handsome face serious, passionate. She kissed him, nibbled his lower lip, gently bit. "Oh John...John..."

"Fuck. I have to, baby, I have to have this now. So fucking beautiful I might die of sheer need," he noted solemnly.

"Please! John! We're having too much–"

"No, we're not. Not at all." He kissed her, moving her back against the wall, the slick tiles. Ran his mouth down her throat, down to gently kiss, suck her breasts. Licking water.

Moira moaned, arching despite herself. Hands sliding on his wet shoulders, arms. "John, John, please, oh please...John..."

He kissed her again, slid into her so easily. Thrusting suddenly, lifting her onto the ledge where there was barely room. His hands tight on her rear as she moaned, whimpered, grabbing his arms as he thrust, thrust. Groaning, grunting with each penetration. Careful not to ram her into the wall, guiding her as he clasped her rear, gently squeezing. "Moira, hold position, baby, oh fuck fuck right there right there oh God that is sweet...tighter, baby oh yeah," he praised.

Moira clung, clawed. There was nothing to hang onto but him. Strong muscles in his arms as he held her there. In his legs as he kept thrusting, straining. She cried out as pleasure erupted, orgasms swirling like the water pounding them, splashing them. He groaned loudly, arching into her, so hard now, throbbing for release. "John! Oh John, John!"

"Moira! Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

Their mutual moans and exclamations a chorus of sexual gratification, release as they came. Voices enhanced by the acoustics of the shower, the water. One last thrust and he came. Shuddered and slid out of her, set her down carefully. Kissing her, pinning her to the wall.

"John, oh John," she marveled, breathless.

"Fuck. Oh Moira...sweetheart...you better get out before I get yet another hard-on."

She kissed him, left the shower quickly.

He moved to the water, washed. Invigorated, sated. So sexually pleased he almost did feel giddy. He grinned.

Moira dried off quickly, dressed and combed her damp hair. Startled yet pleased at yet more passionate exuberance. The repeated sexual ecstasy. She felt so happy, so enamored. She quickly left their rooms, headed for the cafeteria. Realized with a start they hadn't eaten anything since early yesterday. Had been too wrapped up in each other, in sex to care about anything as trivial as food. She almost laughed, but schooled her expression. Loaded a tray and moved to join Carson at a table. "Carson?"

"Please, Moira," he invited with a smile. "Morning, love." His gaze swept over her as she sat. "How are you this morning?"

"Fine! I'm just fine," she lowered her tone, "perfectly fine. Oh Carson," she couldn't help but gush dreamily, "John's wonderful! He's so wonderful! He's so, so utterly wonderful."

Carson snorted. "I see. You look tired, Moira. Did you get any sleep last night?"

She colored. "A, a little...I mean, yes, of course I slept." She colored.

"Afterwards, and in between," John noted with a smug smile. He sat next to her, scooting her to the wall. His tray was loaded with food. "It's my fault, Carson, I just...I just couldn't stop. I couldn't get enough," he admitted boldly.

"John!"she scolded, but he continued, oblivious.

"Neither could she, but I...well, if you'd seen her naked you'd understand how that ripe, voluptuous body is like a drug to my–"

"John Sheppard!" she exclaimed, blushing. The men laughed. She elbowed him.

"Sorry." He kissed her. "Morning, sweetheart." His gaze drifted down. "Morning, John junior." Carson laughed.

Moira sighed. "Stop that! Carson, tell him! Tell him it's not even a, a baby yet. Just a fertilized egg with cells and our combining DNA to form a–"

"Moira! Don't talk about our son like he's a science project!" John scolded. "You'll hurt John junior's feelings."

She scowled. "No! You mean Darwin Lyell Carson's feelings. I've changed my mind. A good science name so your son will be a complete scientist. And Carson because he's done so much for us." She smiled at the doctor.

"I'm flattered and honored, Moira," Carson replied, charmed.

"No. No way. No offense, Carson."

"None taken, John," the doctor assured, amused at their affectionate bickering.

"And my son will not be a science geek," John declared.

"Then stop doing that! And what if it's a girl, flyboy?" she challenged.

"That's easy." He took a drink of orange juice.

"Easy? Let me guess. Johnna junior?"

He laughed. "No, sweetheart, don't be ridiculous. But it's a boy. Trust me on this. You are carrying John junior. I have no doubt."

"You mean Darwin Lyell Carson," she corrected, "since you don't like my Irish names. You know, John, we should name it Andrew. As in _andrewsarchus mongolensis_ since it was conceived on Pleistocene Park, after all." Carson laughed.

John scowled. "Hilarious, Moira. No. He was conceived, not it. He! John junior. Maybe I should make an announcement." He started to rise. She grabbed his arm.

"No! Don't you dare!"

"Shouldn't you announce your marriage first, John?" Carson asked.

"Oh. Yeah. Good point, Carson. I guess I should. So people will know I knocked her up after we got married." He stood. "Excuse me, I–"

"John!" she pulled him down to his chair. The men laughed. "Don't you dare! Carson! You are not helping! John, I'm not kidding!"

He relented. "All right, sweetheart. But we will have to tell some people."

"No," she refused. Picked at her food, met his sudden smirk. "What? What is so damn funny now, colonel?"

"They will probably guess I knocked you up last night, or this morning, Moira. We were very, very, um, exuberant, and the acoustics in the shower were–"

"John! Enough!" She hit his arm. "I'm sorry, Carson. He is–"

"Let me guess. Giddy after too much fudge?" he asked seriously. The men laughed heartily.

Moira colored, but smiled. "Yes! That's it exactly! Move!" She pushed at John.

"No. You've hardly eaten a thing," he countered.

"I can't, thanks to you. I can only eat a little in the morning, colonel. While you were supposedly stranded on that planet I had to endure throwing up every morning. So I can't eat much until later. You and your damn sperm. Move!"

He grinned. "Sorry, sweetheart. On behalf of my damn sperm I do apologize." He scooted out, stood. "But not on behalf of my very happy ordnance," he said low.

"Hilarious, John!" she snapped.

"Your worshipfulness," he countered with a bow.

"Nerfherder!" she replied.

"At least I'm no longer scruffy-looking!" he called after her as she left. "Moira, walk faster!"

"Shut up, John!"

He laughed, sat. Suddenly grew serious. "Carson, is she all right? She needs to eat."

"Aye, she will. Perfectly normal, John. By lunch she will eat like a horse and keep it all down. Don't worry. You seem to have taken this all in stride. Good man."

He shrugged. "Well, I had time to get used to the whole idea, the possibility. Just not this soon, but I'm actually glad it happened now. Was Moira okay when she found out?"

"Aye, she was. Burst into tears. No, she was happy but worried. Overcome. You being stranded from her and all. It's a big change for her, John. Huge. You need to be supportive. Strong for her. Although she seems fine now. Was gushing over you like a newlywed."

"Oh? Yeah, well, we were quite, um...anyway, she'll be fine? I mean all the way through?"

"Yes. She's fine. And will be. Don't think you have to restrict her to the city, because you don't. Not for several months. Don't keep her from her work, John, but don't let her overwork either. She's been doing that while you were gone. She'll resent you if you keep her confined to base, even if you have her best interests at heart. She's not ill. She's pregnant. Don't forget there is a difference."

"Yeah, I know. Thanks. I'll try. I just want her safe. Secure. Protected. I will take care of her, Carson, whether she likes it or not."


	10. Chapter 10

Sympatric Speciation10

Moira was moving from monitor to monitor again. Checking data as it scrolled along. She paused, flipping open a textbook, scanning the words, muttering to herself. She moved to the next console, sat briefly to type a few words. Sprang to her feet and checked another computer that was mapping a haphazard trajectory of planets. She turned again, stumbled backwards, about to fall. "John!"

He caught her arms, steadying her. Raised a brow as he glanced round the empty lab, the busy computers. "What the hell is this, Moira?"

"It's a lab, John. I realize you are no scientist but you should at least recognize it."

"Hilarious, Moira. Shit!" He kept hold of her arms, glancing round again. "Carson said you were overworking, but damn! How many different projects are you currently researching? Moira?"

She gently freed herself, trying not to be distracted by his sexy ire. By the black t-shirt enfolding his body, the gray pants. The sexy double holster straps on his thigh. The boots. "Um, five."

"Um, five?" he echoed, meeting her gaze. She appeared harried, strands of her ponytail escaping to coil against her gray t-shirt. Khaki slacks snug on her hips, her rear as she turned to move to a monitor. "Five?" he repeated, sounding angry. "Moira, enough! You can't run five projects all by yourself! Not when you are pregnant! I can get you help and you can take–"

"No, no thank you, colonel, I can manage," she refused. She turned to him as he stood, frowning. Arms crossed over his chest, stubborn stance immovable. She sighed. "John, really, I'm fine. These projects are very low priority so there's no need to involve anyone else. It's all based on theories and suppositions and the careful collation of data." She considered, recalling Evan's words. "Hey, could you get me a certain flavor of Doritos?"

"Huh? Moira, you need help and you will get help. I will decide what projects are low or high priority. So? What's all this about?" He gestured at the computers. The piles of books. The papers littering the desks. He folded his arms in front of his chest again. Waited.

She shrugged. "The migratory trajectory, extrapolating backwards to find the breeding ground. The DNA and now RNA sequencing of the Wraith genome, specifically as it pertains to the mRNA and how the other Wraith evolved differently from our own. Carson's helping me on that one because frankly all that genetic stuff is beyond me when it gets too technical. The evolutionary branches of the pachyderms and their relatives. The development of the ATA gene in general, and how those other Wraith could have possibly adapted it. The proteins, John, it all boils down to the proteins and the enzymes. It's complicated. Oh, and um, um, just a little research on, um, pregnancy because I don't know a thing about it." Her voice fell softly at the end, and she blushed. Flustered she glanced at the computers, then to John.

John had been glowering, but her last project made him smile. He moved to her. Touched her rosy cheek. Kissed her lips. "Ah. Always the scientist, is that it? I see."

"John, you...it's not funny!" she flared, hitting his chest.

"No, it's not, it's adorable, Moira." He kissed her again, pulling her into his arms. "My Moira. But enough is enough, sweetheart. You don't have to bury yourself in projects, in science. I'm here now, baby. You can bury yourself in me. Repeatedly."

"John! These are valid projects! Well, all but the last one, and–"

"No. The last one is highest priority, Moira. The rest can wait. No, I told you, I'll decide the priority here, and the priorities are you and my son."

She sighed. "No. I have work to–"

"No." He considered, keeping her close to him. He licked his lips. Gaze roving over her body before meeting her irritated expression. "Okay. Got it."

"Got what? Will you let go of me? I have work to do, damn it, and you are not going to stop me! Don't you dare stop me, John!"

"No, I'm not going to stop you, just slow you down," he agreed. "Top priority is the pregnancy. No, don't you dare argue with me," he warned before she could protest. "Next the migratory trajectory. Then the pachyderms, then the what was it? The genetic RNA stuff. Then the ATA stuff as it has nothing to do with this reality. Got it, baby? I've decided. You'll get all the help you need. You do realize we have a city full of scientists, don't you?"

"Hilarious, John! Yes, and they are all engaged in much more pressing projects and research then I am. Lower echelon, remember? So just take that fine, fine ass of yours and scoot!" She pushed.

He smiled. "If I was sensitive, Moira, I'd think you were trying to get rid of me. Luckily I'm an Alpha male so I am dense when it comes to subtlety. Come on."

"John!" She was torn between amusement and anger. Yanked free as he began to pull her towards the door. "No! I have work to–"

"Enough! The only work you have to do is in our bed, got it, baby? I will not have my son inundated with all this science even before he is born! And don't pull that lower echelon crap on me ever again! Unless you meant it as some weird kind of sexual foreplay. Did you?"

"No! Keep it in your pants, Sheppard! I have work to do! Maybe not the most important work but it is important work and I need to do it! I won't stop being a scientist, John, I won't!"

"I'd never ask that of you, Moira. Just slow down, all right? I'm here now. With you. Okay? Now come on. You need a break. I need a break. I'll talk to Weir and we can get you a team to help with all of this stuff."

"I'm not going and I don't need help!" She moved to a console. Typed. "Another planet out in the far fringes, John. We're getting there, but it's taking time. If this trajectory keeps heading out this way it will be where we've never gone before...maybe even beyond the Stargate network. How will we ever access the--" She yelped as she was suddenly swept off her feet. "John!"

He smiled as she grabbed onto him, hands scrambling along his shoulders, his neck as he supported her bent legs and back. He held her, carried her to the doorway. "Don't care. You heard my orders, baby! Damn it! I will have Carson ground that pert little ass again if I have to!

You need rest and sex, now! So do I."

She laughed, arms snaking around his neck. "John! John Sheppard, put me down! Put me down! You are acting like a caveman!"

"And it turns you on, doesn't it, baby? All those primal urges," he teased with a leer. Carried her out of the lab. "Hmm...I'm thinking the table, okay? Then the bed."

"Sounds like Sheppard's delight. No! I don't have time for–"

"You will make time for, baby, believe me! We are going to enjoy lots of fudge. We'll skip part one and go right for part two."

"John, there you are! I've been fiddling with that thingy we found on that planet and I oh am I interrupting something?" Rodney stared.

"No, not at all," John said, voice mild, as if carrying Moira in his arms was nothing out of the ordinary. "That alien thingy?"

"John, will you put me down?" Moira asked, but laughed as he swung her gently, adjusting his hold on her. She met Rodney's perplexed gaze. "Um, John interrupted my research."

"Oh. I can see that," Rodney quipped. Shook his head. "Anyway, yes, that alien artifact. I haven't got it working yet but I have successfully created an interface with our tech. Not the Ancient tech but good old Earth tech. You know that means?"

"You can finally fix the DVD again?" John quipped.

"No...well, maybe. No! It means that...are you going to just hold her like that while we talk?" Rodney asked, finding the sight of Moira swung up into John's arms distracting.

"Yes. You were saying?" John asked.

Moira giggled. "John, set me down, would you? John!"

"Hell no, you'll just run back to your lab and work. So, Rodney? Meaning?"

"I...uh...oh. Yes. This alien tech may not even be indigenous to this galaxy at all. And that means the aliens may not be either! And that means–"

"You think it might have come from our galaxy, like a stowaway on an Ancient ship when they were stealing from Earth," John surmised.

"Uh, yes. Exactly. Wow," Rodney commented.

Moira smirked. "I know. Just when you think he's all Neanderthal he flashes that Mensa brain of his and there you go. Will you please put me down now, colonel?"

"No. See if you can get it working, and send all the schematics to the Daedalus so they can transmit it to Earth. Maybe the SGC has seen something like it, or can pinpoint the origin. It's not Asgard, is it?"

"No! I would recognize that! And no, it's not Goa'uld either. Okay. That's a good idea, actually. Wow."

"I know," Moira teased again, "just when you are dazzled by his pretty head he actually says something quite intelligent and ow!"

John's hand slid to squeeze her rear. "Enough! Well, what are you waiting for? Get to work, Rodney! I've got my hands full here. I need to spank a certain biologist."

"John! Put me down, would you?" She squirmed but John tightened his hold on her, began to carry her up the hallway, moving past a bemused Rodney. "John! Damn it, John, put me down! Okay! Okay! I will go to our rooms, all right? Put me down!"

"Hell no. You need to be disciplined, baby, and I plan to be at it for hours."

"You wish! John, put me down! Seriously, I have work to do! John–"

"No. Seriously, you need a spanking and then I will thoroughly take that sweet, sweet center."

She sighed. Nuzzled his throat. Kissed up to his ear. "Jo-hn," she teased into his ear. Circled it with soft kisses. Then bit. Hard.

"Ow!" He nearly dropped her as she laughed. "Fuck! Moira, that's it!"

"Then put me down, damn it! John!"

"No. Just enjoy the ride, baby."

"Now? Or later, sweetie?" she teased.

He laughed. "Both."


End file.
